


Empty Boots

by LenoirWhittlethorn



Series: Empty Boots [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Adult Themes, F/M, Gruesome Imagery, Sensuality, War, intense imagery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-09 01:07:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1963209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LenoirWhittlethorn/pseuds/LenoirWhittlethorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Hiatus]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

** Chapter One **

 

The room reeked of decaying corpses and the air was heavy. Levi couldn’t breath, so he stretched out his arms towards the nearest wall, hoping a door would be around there. As he groped the wall, the texture of cottage cheese registered in his mind, and it was warm. Nauseated, Levi jerked his hands away and took a few steps back. The ceiling must’ve been expanding upward because he was feeling shorter, but gurgling around his feet made him quickly realize that he was sinking into the floor. Burning flesh wafted up into Levi’s nostrils and he lifted one foot, then the other in a panic. As if sensing Levi’s awareness, the room filled up with the acidic fluid faster. 

 

His chest spasmed for fresh air. When the acid sizzled through his pants and made contact with his crotch, Levi flailed in agony. Millions of needles stabbed his nerves and filled them with acid. He had no more skin, no more muscle; he was just a dissolving skeleton. Even though he lacked lungs, he was still obsessed with breathing properly. Levi stared at his ivory finger bones and noticed something convulsing at the floor of the flesh room. 

 

At once, Levi knew it was the body of Petra, an old comrade. Somehow he could see the details of her contorted face and when her glossy eyes met his eye sockets, she screamed fiercely. The sound waves rippled through the acid and struck Levi’s skeleton, shattering it upon impact. He screamed as every crack branched out into severe fractures, eventually disintegrating to particles.

 

\---

 

Levi opened his eyes and hazily observed the shiny falseness of his hardwood floor. He wasn’t staring at the ceiling. He had fallen on the floor again during another night terror. When the fogginess of waking up dissipated, Levi immediately checked his crotch. Everything was intact. He gently brushed his fingertips against his legs and curled up into a ball so he could feel his calves. His left leg was all accounted for, but he stopped abruptly at his right leg’s knee, or where his knee would be. Levi hyperventilated and scanned his surroundings. He was at home, so why did he feel like he was in danger?

 

“Where is it?” Levi sat up, his back crashing into the side of the bed. “Where?” He demanded and squeezed his incomplete leg. Tears welled up in his eyes as he dug his fingers into the scar tissue. He swallowed the lump in his throat and gazed up at the ceiling. 

 

He forced himself to focus on the patterns of the fake stucco ceiling and began to calm his breathing. His wild expression of panic eased into a placid mask. Achieving some semblance of tranquility, Levi returned his attention towards his hands. His knuckles were white, while his fingers resembled purple hooks. Levi scoffed and released his vice grip of his right leg, what was left of it. 

 

Dull sunlight filtered through the slightly parted shades, as did Levi’s sense of reality. Slick with sweat, Levi shivered and sighed in frustration. He had to shower and wash the bed sheets again. He stiffly lifted himself onto the bed and put his hands on his legs. As if apologizing, Levi gently massaged his legs and looked at the clock on his nightstand. 

 

7:18am. 

 

Across the room, approximately ten yards from the bed, was the bathroom where he always washed, washed, washed. A tiny voice stemming from his gut whispered the idea of flopping back into bed. But a few beads of sweat rolled down the center of his back and rested over his tailbone. Everything was filthy with the stench of struggling against death, yet not living. Filthy.

 

The cane Levi had used every now and then gleamed in the soft light, causing a fierce glare towards Levi. He clicked his tongue and grabbed the plain, black walking stick. Technically, a crutch would be more suitable, but Levi would rather baby crawl than lean against something. In a fragmented walking cycle, Levi eventually made it to the bathroom and he carefully placed the cane against the bathroom counter. He turned away from the large mirror, shivering again, and then looked at the railing that perimetered the whole room. It was horribly installed; it wasn’t straight and it appeared like a roller coaster track. 

 

Zoe Hanji. 

 

“That woman’s brain is as crooked as the railing,” Levi grumbled and absentmindedly rubbed his right leg. It had been a couple weeks since Dr. Hanji had visited him, which would make it the longest interval of time that she hadn’t barged through his front door. 

 

Levi looked out of the bathroom and focused on the bed. He began wondering how the doctor would look like draped lazily across the disarrayed sheets. She would probably hog all the blankets and swing her legs about like a young girl. As if nothing bad ever happened in this world. Shaking his head, Levi peeled off his pajama pants and boxers. A few years had passed since the end of the war, but he still found himself struggling to even bathe. 

 

He carefully guided himself to the small door of his walk-in bathtub, grimacing as his butt made contact with the frigid seat. He turned the tab to the highest temperature and sat back, shivering from the cool contact with the back of the bathtub. His sharp eyes narrowed in on the discolored grout lining the tub and he huffed. Zoe Hanji maybe be the leading doctor in prosthetics, but a handywoman she was not. 

 

The seering water turned his foot a bright red shade as the veins began popping up. Levi shut his eyes and allowed the hot water to crawl up his good leg, enjoying the burning sensation. Once the tub filled up, Levi shut off the water and immediately began scrubbing himself. No matter how blotchy his skin got, Levi scraped his wash rag over it again, again, again. His scalp didn’t escape his severe method and only when he cleaned every inch of himself three times, did he consider draining the tub. 

 

After the drain made one last obnoxious slurp, Levi braced himself and stood up. A sudden noise from the first floor made Levi fall backwards and he loudly cussed as his tailbone crashed onto the seat. When the spots disappeared from his vision, Levi grabbed a towel and hurriedly dried himself off. Just as he wrapped the towel around his waist, a shadow blocked the doorway. He shook his head and faced his intruder. 

 

“I’ll have to change the locks again,” Levi grumbled, “what do you want, Doc?”

 

Doctor Hanji grinned mischievously as she put her hands on her hips. “You’ll have to change brands again; I already figured out how to lock pick those babies.” She adjusted her glasses and peered at Levi. “You’re thin.”

 

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Levi retorted and crossed his arms over his chest; he leaned against the bathroom counter.

 

“The human brain doesn’t feel pain; it only interprets pain sent through the nerves.” Hanji quipped and chuckled when Levi raised an eyebrow. “I’m serious, if I stabbed your brain, it wouldn’t feel pain, but the message of pain would be sent. Mind blowing, right?”

 

“Fascinating,” Levi replied dryly. “what do you want, Zoe?”

 

Dr.Hanji’s face became expressionless, the mask she wore when dealing with patients. “Levi, you haven’t tried on the new prosthetics I got you and you even refused the crutches. How do you expect to move out there in the world?” Her voice and expression softened as she watched her friend fidget.

 

Levi stared at Zoe, remembered her years ago, when she was covered in muck and screamed at him to hang on. He briefly imagined her snoozing on his bed; she probably snored. “I don’t want to move, I just want the world to stop spinning.” He shuddered as droplets of water fell from his soaked hair and rolled over his shoulders. 

 

“Then stop standing and walk.” Zoe smiled and extended her right hand to Levi. 

 

He ignored Zoe’s offer and grabbed his cane. He hobbled awkwardly around Zoe and made his way towards his dresser. As he struggled, Zoe calmly walked past Levi and leaned against the dresser; her arms now crossed over her chest. She watched him without saying a word. Levi averted his eyes as he leaned against the dresser and took out a shirt, boxers, and pants. 

 

Zoe sighed audibly, “You need help,” she asked, realizing that her friend was going to be as stubborn as ever. 

 

“No, you can step out for a while though.” Levi answered quietly, refusing to look at her and at the mirror. 

 

Surprisingly, Zoe didn’t object and walked out the bedroom door and headed down the stairs. “I’m frying up some eggs and bacon.” She yelled, some irritation decorating her words. 

 

“Don’t you dare, you don’t cook the eggs long enough!” Levi shouted as he leaned his backside against the dresser. 

 

“If you get down here fast enough, you may be able to stop me.” Zoe sang out.

  
  


\----

 

Scrambled eggs never looked so unappealing. Zoe Hanji was a hopeless woman, bottom line; the scrambled eggs were just fragments of brown-yellow matter with some raw yolk still oozing underneath. He poked his bacon and frowned when it didn’t crunch. His right hand began trembling when he heard thumping and mumbling upstairs. She was making his bed, but it wouldn’t be done correctly. If only he dressed faster, then the eggs and bacon wouldn’t have been wasted. But if he allowed her help in the first place, then he could’ve prevented his current headache. Hanji was a screwy woman. 

 

Torn between not wasting food and not eating the slop, Levi glared at his breakfast and cursed silently at his lot in life. Then he thought about how Zoe appeared frantically flipping the egg yolk around on the skillet while also frying the bacon. The woman was a well-respected doctor, the one leading the augmentation revolution, and here she had no other desire than to make sure he ate breakfast. His intense stare lessened as he gazed past the greasy plate and remembered how she appeared out of nowhere and began screaming at him to hold on. Hold on.

 

Hold on.

 

Fingers butterfly-kissed Levi’s shoulders and he jumped, making him drop the fork against the plate with a deafening clatter. He’d forgotten that Zoe was even in the house and he intimately thought she was just another amongst the dead. Lying with him under the mounds of bodies still rotting in the battlefield. 

 

Zoe placed even pressure on the base of his neck. “The brain doesn’t feel, but the nerves do.” She softly stated and rubbed his shoulders until Levi bowed his head. “So what’s been getting on your nerves, Levi?”

 

“It’s not ‘on’, it’s ‘in’.” Levi murmured and lifted his head when he heard Zoe walk away. “Where are you going?” He demanded and turned in his seat to get a better view of her.

 

“Relax, I’m going to make us some coffee.” She cooed and grinned.

 

Levi felt his face heat up and he turned back around, glaring at his food. “How can I relax when I know I’m going to have to eat your cooking.” He snatched the fork and shoveled food into his mouth so that he could drown out Zoe’s chortling. The food was decent, despite the piece of eggshell every now and then. 

 

Not a surprise, Levi heard the microwave whirring and knew Zoe was making instant coffee. “I bought the real stuff a while ago, why don’t you use it?” Levi raised an eyebrow when a mug of coffee appeared next to his right hand. “You already made a cup?”

 

Zoe sat down next to Levi and held her own mug in her hands. “I made a pot of coffee after I came in. I just reheated our cups a little,” she glanced at Levi and slurped her coffee, “you couldn’t smell it?” she asked after indulging in her coffee. 

 

“Nothing smells.” Levi answered grimly and sipped his coffee. He cringed because the coffee with loaded with cream and sugar. 

 

Zoe finished her cup and stood up. “Probably all those cleaning products you consistently use.” She tapped her nose and smiled warmly. “I guess that’s a blessing because I haven’t showered in a long time--pulled a few all nighters--the holidays bring in a variety of patients.”

 

Levi looked up at her and noticed the dark circles behind her glasses. “You’re more than welcome to use the bath and bed.” 

 

A shadow crept over Zoe’s face and she sighed deeply. “In exchange?” She gave Levi a scowl.

 

“In exchange for what?”

 

“You say ‘welcome to use’, but your eyes wish to carry out a transaction that I can’t fulfill.” Zoe replied flatly. 

 

“I’m sorry.” Levi wasn’t the type of man to feign gentlemanly behavior; he knew his words had a double meaning and silently hoped she would play along with him. She turned him down a couple minutes faster than usual. She was tired. 

 

Zoe sighed and brought all the dirty dishes to the sink. “The prosthetics are in the living room. When you’re ready to put them on, give me a call.” Her footsteps dragged towards the front door. “Levi, get some sunlight. Doctor’s orders.” She quietly shut door, but Levi imagined her smiling as she hopped down the stoop and approached her car. 

 

\----

 

Fold, straighten, tuck, tighten, smooth--stupid wrinkle--tuck, tighten. Levi did his best to make the bed look like a bed and not the stomach that digested his soul. He stood back, leaning on his cane, and frowned. The left corner was crooked; he could tell from the puckered fabric. Just as he was about to remake the bed, someone began screaming outside his house. Levi froze, thinking that the enemy had the upperhand and soon his squad would be gunned down one by one.

 

When the scream reached his ears again, Levi relaxed. It was a stranger’s scream, meaning this wasn’t the battlefield. But the scream still unnerved him; it was primal and young. 

 

Levi sat in his lift and crossed his arms over his chest as the machine slowly carried him down the stairs. The screaming was worse the closer he got to the first floor. Clicking his tongue, Levi got off just before the lift could come at a complete stop. He staggered to the front door; cane at the ready. He flung open the door and it hit something at full force. Silence abruptly filled Levi’s ears, but it lasted only for a few moments.

 

A young woman yelled in shock, which caused Levi to step out onto his stoop and see the damage. There was a young man slumped over the right side of the stoop. The young woman had a panicked expression as she attempted to lift up her companion. Levi’s eye twitched as he noticed their stained clothes and greasy hair. He sighed audibly to get the woman’s attention. 

 

“You’re huge raccoons.” He observed sarcastically.

 

The woman was unmistakably Asian and her dark eyes were dull from exhaustion. “Please, help him!” she rasped. 

 

The young man, who looked nothing like the woman, groaned as his green eyes rolled back. The Asian pressed her dingy sleeve against the young man’s bleeding nose. 

 

“That’s disgusting,” Levi scowled and smacked the woman’s hand with his cane. “you’re making it worse. Do you want him to die from infection?” The woman shook her head, though her eyes flashed with irritation from being hit. “I can help, but I need names.”

 

“Why?” The woman immediately became defensive, which made Levi wary.

 

“Names, or I’m letting them decide your fate.” Levi tilted his head towards his neighbors who were taking out their cell phones. 

 

The woman nodded and stood up to face Levi. “Mikasa,” she lifted her male companion from under his arms. “Eren.” She grunted as she tried to hold him steady. 

 

“Last name too.”

 

“Are you kidding--”

 

“--Now.” Levi growled and ignored the fact that the woman was taller than him.

 

Mikasa glared down at the handicapped man, but she could overhear the neighbors debating on calling the cops or not. “Ackerman and Jaeger.” She muttered, as if she didn’t want anyone else to overhear.

 

“Good, now get in,” Levi ordered as he held open the front door. He silently marveled at the speed Mikasa entered his house, even when carrying a young man. He turned his attention to his neighbors. “my good-for-nothing niece and nephew got high again. I’ve got it under control.” He stated firmly, which convinced the neighbors. They knew better not to challenge this particular war vet. 

 

Levi scanned the area and besides two figures in hoods jogging away, he didn’t see anything else out of the ordinary. He reentered his house and checked the door several times to make sure it was securely locked. Once he was satisfied, he looked at the two young hobos. And noticed they weren’t on the first floor.

 

He rushed up the stairs, tripping a couple times and cursing a dozen times. When he reached his room, he glared at the sight before him. The idiot known as Mikasa had dumped her grody companion on top of Levi’s fresh bedsheets. He inhaled deeply and repeated his mental mantra that it wasn’t a big deal. After all, the boy got a bloody nose from Levi’s door. 

 

“Make yourself at home,” Levi quipped and watched Mikasa’s face redden in shame. “I’ll get something clean for his wounds, but you better not move again, otherwise--” Levi tapped his right nub, which Mikasa understood.

 

The bathroom’s mirror had cleared and Levi braced himself. He looked at himself and frowned. His hand trembled as he opened the latch, revealing a medicine cabinet behind the mirror. He snatched gauze, iodine, then slammed the door shut. Without looking up, he grabbed a small washcloth and dampened it with hot water. Hobbling, Levi left the bathroom and the reflection of history. He couldn’t dwell on it, after all he had two stupid kids dirtying up his clean sheets. 

  
  
\--To be continued---

 


	2. Chapter 2

** Chapter Two **

 

The air was so thick that many soldiers coughed in the hope that they could clear their lungs. When the rain fell, Zoe and her company expected relief, but it never came. Everything was against them. Still, Zoe breathed calmly and smiled at her comrades, making sure all the faces she saw would be the same faces she would see after the war. A pretty thought. 

 

Long blades of grass licked Zoe’s legs, up to her thighs, but she kept running. Her comrades didn’t dare to yell at her to stop, since they were behind enemy lines. Their labored breaths blended with their shuffling boots through the lush grasslands. Some men tripped from the slick brush, but Zoe didn’t stop. She knew her men would straighten up just as quickly as they fell and they’d catch up. She looked down and noticed her beige pants were being stained red. Intel was right for once, their destination would be the stuff of nightmares. She pumped her legs faster, ignoring her tightened tendons. 

 

Ahead of her was a field of maroon and corpses littered about like morbid flowers. The rainfall diluted and spread the blood everywhere, hiding every inch that was once green. Zoe gasped, then she felt her right foot slip. There was a sharp incline that Zoe overlooked, but when she braced for impact, it never came. Someone from behind had grabbed the backpack she was wearing and yanked her backwards. 

 

The body she leaned against was slender; the body of a medical student who never wanted to be on the battlefield. “Sir, you need to watch where you’re going.” The voice cracked at the end and was accented with heavy breathing.

 

“Moblit, you were right behind me this time! Good for you!” Zoe rasped and steadied herself. 

 

“Sir!” Moblit tugged Zoe to crouch low. 

 

Just as the two crouched, bullets whizzed over their heads. They exchanged a glance and laid flat on their stomachs. Zoe cringed as she heard some of her men shout in panic and the sickening thud of their bodies against the mud. They slid downhill with ease and Zoe smirked when Moblit groaned in disgust at the mud filling up every open nook and cranny on his person. It never got old. 

 

Zoe was about to whisper something, but her mind went blank when she made eye contact with a nearby corpse. The eyes were an unusual hazelnut color, with flecks of gold, similar to autumn leaves. There was an innocence to them, even  post mortise and Zoe’s hands went cold. It was Petra Ral; the medic of E Company. Zoe forced spit down her dry throat when she noticed that Petra was still clutching her medical kit in hand. The blood pool underneath her head had congealed and refused to dilute in the rain. The hole in the center of  Petra’s head confirmed Zoe’s analysis; a sniper shot. 

 

“S-sir, there’s movement.” Moblit kept flat on the ground, but pointed ahead. 

 

When Zoe looked, she grabbed fistfuls of mud and ground her teeth so that she wouldn’t break out into sobs. There was the captain of E Company, fused into the bottom a shattered tree, writhing like a bird with its wings chopped off. Fresh blood sprayed from one of his legs and Moblit muttered a string of curses as they both realized the dangling calf dancing about. Zoe shut her eyes tight, but she could never unsee all the red.

 

\--

 

Zoe Hanji opened her eyes, groggily noting that her hands weren’t stained red and were gripping a steering wheel. She looked through the windshield and saw two shadows dart out. Zoe slammed her brakes and gasped sharply. Sirens went off in her mind, but she immediately mumbled her mantra ‘ Reality is what you make of it ’ and convinced herself she wasn’t in danger. She focused on the two men who had their hoods up and almost pressed her car horn as they continued to walk across the street illegally. The men must’ve sensed her glare because they quickly pulled back their hoods and bowed repeatedly. When they looked up at Zoe, she couldn’t help but crack a smile.

 

They were young, both good-looking in their unique ways. One was muscular and blonde, the other was slender and had dark hair. Zoe waved them to move along, fearing other cars would plow straight through. The blonde man winked and grabbed his companion by the arm, sprinting at a speed Zoe believed to be inhuman. 

 

“Must be the changing season,” Zoe muttered as she continued to drive. She need to be downtown two hours ago and she kept getting red light after red light. Too much red in her life. Zoe looked at her car’s clock while waiting for the last stoplight to go green.

 

11:07am.

 

The light turned green and Zoe gunned it, making her tires squeal. “The snowflakes haven’t fallen yet, Sawney!” Zoe laughed as she careened down the road. 

 

Downtown Trost used to be considered the slums until the government stepped in and built a college campus. The Enlightenment Project was designed to bridge the widening gap between civilians and soldiers while also educating future generations, no matter what class they were born into. Controversy surrounded the project, since it was built with unusual speed and the funding went well beyond millions. As the years passed, Trost witnessed a Cinderella tale as the slums began to clean up nicely. College students flooded downtown Trost, both veterans and civilians, which boosted businesses that were near bankruptcy before the war started. Controversies were shushed and shoved under the rug of Hope. 

 

Disillusion.

 

Zoe slowed down so she could parallel park in front of an apartment complex, ignoring the clock’s harsh reminder that she was now three hours late. She locked her car and was about to leave, but she was seized by a strong compulsion. Sighing, Zoe went back to her car door and jiggled the door handle one, two, three, four...eight times and then the pressure left from behind her eyes. She petted Sawney and dashed to the front door of the complex. Frigid brass bit her right palm when she gripped the doorknob. 

 

The tiny hairs at the nape of her neck spiked and she knew someone was coming from behind. She swung around, seeing flashes of crimson, and glared at her new opponent. The young man stepped back and tiny clouds puffed from his open mouth. The red drained away and Zoe saw the dull gray of winter tint the young man’s pink cheeks. ‘ Reality is what you make of it ’ she silently repeated until it ricocheted within the confines of her psyche. She forced a smile and put her chilled, shaken palm on the young man’s shoulder. 

 

“Here so early, Mr. Kirschstein?” Zoe chuckled and dropped her hand once the young man recovered from seeing her intense glare.

 

“I-I’m not early,” the young man regained his composure and put his gloved hands on his hips. “so you’re late again, Dr. Hanji.” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for an explanation.

 

“I’m sorry, I had to check on another patient of mine--”

 

“--You know, you were doing so well; being on time and letting us know ahead of time when you wouldn’t be available--”

 

“--a thousand apologies, Mr. Kirschstein--”

 

“--stop with the ‘Mister’, it’s Jean.” Jean sighed. “C’mon, we’ll go in together.”

 

Jean opened the door and allowed Zoe to pass through first before following her inside.The lobby still smelled like chopped wood and Zoe fluttered her eyelashes as she inhaled deeply. In her mind’s eye, she saw an image of Levi sipping his coffee; he looked at her and showed a miniscule remnant of a smile. Her heart fluttered. Before she could further the fantasy, Zoe opened her eyes and rushed to catch up to Jean, who had already reached the elevator. 

 

Jean glanced at her quizzingly as they stood next to each other in the elevator, but he denied his curiosity. Still he wondered why Dr. Hanji’s eyes shined brighter for a few moments while she stood in the lobby. He pushed the fifth floor button and began taking off his gloves. Feeling awkward in the silence, Jean cleared his throat and spoke up.

 

“Temperature’s finally dropping. We may actually get some snow to stick for once.” He grimaced inwardly for bringing up the weather, of all the topics to discuss, but he knew he wasn’t much of a smooth talker with women. 

 

“I hope so, I’m getting so tired of all this gray, dead matter.” Dr. Hanji said softly and never removed her stare from the elevator doors. 

 

“Same. I fell asleep in between my first class and my second class today. This season can be beautiful and cruel in that sense.” Jean muttered and tucked his gloves into his winter jacket. 

 

Zoe and Jean jumped when the elevator beeped. Jean motioned for Zoe to exit first, which the latter complied with a smile. They both walked at an even pace until they reached Room 505. Jean took out his keys and unlocked the three locks on the door. Once again, Jean opened the door and allowed Zoe to enter first. Before entering himself, Jean looked down the hallway, then made sure he locked the door after he entered. His grim expression relaxed when he heard the doctor cheerfully greeting her patient. 

 

Zoe bounced into the living room, knowing that her patient would be relaxing on the couch. “How are we today, Marco?” Zoe chirped as bent forward to get a good look at her patient’s face. 

 

Marco Bodt had come back into the homeland after been documented as MIA, but not entirely. Half of his body was horribly mutilated, which forced him to be bedridden for a couple years; his life cradled by countless machines. The media, ever persistent in stirring the coals of conspiracy, badgered Marco whenever he was conscious about his time behind enemy lines. There were even reporters who told Marco that there weren’t any enemy lines to begin with; that essentially he was just another pawn the government used.This worsened his condition psychologically, but there was a silver lining. The coverage on Marco Bodt: POW caught Zoe’s attention and with some help from an old friend, she became Marco’s doctor. When she proposed prosthetics, she almost cried from Marco’s expression of hope. 

 

Her old friend, Erwin Smith, pulled more strings so that there would be enough funding for this project. Zoe was going to help Marco see the world in panoramic and run towards a bright future. If a success, Zoe would be heralded as a visionary and Marco Bodt would be the poster child of hope, instead of conspiracy. It would be a bloody road. Only a few months had passed since Marco got the bionic eye and robotic limbs. Zoe warned Marco that patience was key; he would have to relive his infancy all over again. Baby steps, baby steps. Her eyes refocused from the past to Marco’s freckled face. He was just a baby when he was drafted.

 

“I’m well, Dr. Hanji.” Marco replied softly and smiled. 

 

Jean spoke up from the kitchen area. “Dr. Hanji, would you like something to drink?”

 

“No thanks, Jean, I’ve already guzzled down a whole pot of coffee.” Zoe saw Marco’s shock and winked at him. 

 

“It’s called sleep, Doc.” Jean replied, his chuckles carrying through the walls like a murmured melody.

 

Marco’s laughter became the bassline and Zoe shut her eyes to enjoy the brief piece of music. She couldn’t remember Levi ever laughing and her mind attempted to construct a laugh from all the times she heard him speak. It would probably sound like a child first learning how to play an instrument. With time though, with enough practice, Levi’s laugh would still falter, but it would be the most beautiful sound. Zoe sighed in anguish.

 

“Doctor?” Marco asked worriedly.

 

Zoe opened her eyes, her eyelids feeling like boulders. “Sorry, Marco, I pulled a few all nighters down at the clinic. Caffeine must be wearing off.” She mumbled and straightened up, cracking her neck in the process.

 

“Oh then please go home and get some sleep!” Marco lowered his head, ashamed that he was the reason Dr. Hanji hadn’t gotten any rest yet. “You don’t have to keep checking up on me.” He murmured.

 

Unable to help herself anymore, Dr. Hanji placed a hand on Marco’s head and patted him gently. “Your life is so important, a little lack of sleep doesn’t matter to me.” She cooed. “Prosthetics can be a miracle, but they aren’t a perfected technology. I just want to make sure you don’t feel any discomfort, Marco.” 

 

The freckled young man’s cheeks flushed and he nodded. “Thank you,” he swallowed a lump that was creeping up his throat. “Everything itches.” Marco added quietly. 

 

“Is it on the outside or the inside?” Dr. Hanji glanced over Marco’s right side, bringing up a thousand scenarios that Marco may be experiencing in her mind. 

 

Marco touched the white eyepatch over his right eye. “It itches behind the eyeball,” then Marco rubbed his right arm and leg with his left hand, “but here it’s the skin.” he finished and waited for Dr. Hanji’s diagnosis. 

 

“You’ve been applying the ointment every eight hours?” Dr. Hanji asked and Marco nodded. “The itching behind your eyeball is good, it means the nerves are still alive; let me know if you feel a cold-numb sensation behind your eyeball anytime in the future. Your arm and leg are something else; the ointment should be alleviating the irritation.”

 

Jean walked into the room, ready to ask Dr. Hanji if she needed her coat hung up on the coat rack. He realized she was still in full scrubs and white lab coat. He watched Marco’s left eye twitch as Dr. Hanji fretted over the cause of the irritated skin. It had only been several years, but Jean knew Marco as if they spent infinite lifetimes together. Marco was hiding something. After taking a sip of his coffee, Jean approached doctor and patient.

 

“Marco, have you been exercising beyond the required amount?” Jean narrowed his eyes on his friend and scoffed when Marco looked away. “Are you trying to make your new leg and arm break?” He demanded harshly.

 

“No!” Marco cringed. “I am feeling stronger, honestly, I can do more!”

 

“You don’t need to do anymore than what’s required, Marco, that’s why the doctor wrote out specific exercises!” Jean raised his voice and ignored Dr. Hanji’s tensed shoulders. “Here I thought there was something wrong!”

 

“There is something wrong!” Marco smacked his leg and arm, then pointed at his eyepatch. He glared at Jean as he kept his finger pointed at the scarred up side of his face. 

 

The air was heavy and red. 

 

Dr. Hanji gasped, causing the two young men to break their glaring contest. “I forgot something in my car!” She bolted for the door and deftly unlocked it before sprinting down the hallway. 

 

“Tch, wackiest doctor I’ve ever met,” Jean muttered and hesitantly made eye contact with Marco. “I didn’t mean to yell.” He quickly gulped down his coffee and left the living room, ignoring Marco’s tearing eye. He closed the door, but left it unlocked. 

 

There was a heavy thud from the living room, followed by an odd rhythm of whirring and grinding. Jean wasn’t surprised when he saw Marco stagger out of the living room. “We should help her out.” Marco suggested and rubbed his good eye with his good hand. 

 

“She probably forgot her cell phone or medical kit.” Jean couldn’t help but smile at Marco. “You’re not falling over anymore.”

 

Marco beamed a grin back and their brief quarrel was laid to rest. “Do doctors carry medical kits?” He crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head in wonder.

 

“I heard Dr. Hanji was a paramedic during the war.”

 

“This is the first time I’ve seen her so exhausted, I hope it isn’t--”

 

“--Don’t start that up again.” Jean scolded. “She’s a doctor, I’m sure she’s just swamped with patients.”

 

“I don’t think it’s only work.”

 

“Oh, you a woman reader?”

 

“N-no.”

 

Both young men chuckled and then tensed when a loud bang sounded from the door. Jean stood in front of Marco and opened the door. Dr. Hanji was sitting on her butt, a large box still on her lap. The package had a giant blue bow on it, while the wrapping paper consisted of cut up paper bags and newspapers. Jean snapped into action and assisted Dr. Hanji.

 

“What on earth, Doc?” Jean marveled as Dr. Hanji rushed into the living room.

 

“I know it’s a couple weeks yet, but I may not see you guys on Christmas Day.” Dr. Hanji carefully set the box on the coffee table. “Merry Christmas!” She cheered as the two young men re-entered the living room.

 

“You didn’t.” Marco and Jean said in unison.

 

Zoe rubbed her cold nose and grinned. “I did.” She could already see the protests forming on their lips, so she held up her right hand, hoping they wouldn’t see it shake. 

 

“Hey, this is not some frivolous expense. I had an inkling Marco would start to develop cabin fever, especially since he does have the capability of walking! This should not only cure him of his boredom, but it should also help hone his motor skills.” 

 

“What is it?” Marco placed his synthetic hand on the box. Unfortunately, he applied too much pressure and his hand went through the box. “I ruined it!” He panicked and raised his arm, lifting the box above his head. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry!”

 

“Marco, seriously?” Jean exclaimed and tried lowering his friend’s mechanical arm. “Dude, relax!”

 

Zoe laughed at the sight. “Oh, both hardware and arm may break from all that flailing.” She noticed Jean’s exasperated expression and knew she needed to help. “Don’t get too excited.” Zoe warned and she wrapped her arms around Marco. “Now where is that--ah--should be here!” She pressed her left fingers just under Marco’s right shoulder blade. 

 

Marco gasped and his right arm immediately drooped. His heart fluttered as Dr. Hanji squeezed him before letting him go. He had girlfriends before, but he could never gain enough courage to hold their hands, let alone embrace them tightly. It didn’t help that she had slipped her left hand under his long sleeve shirt in order to push under his shoulder blade. 

 

“Did you insert a reset button?” Jean huffed as he placed the battered box back on the coffee table. 

 

Dr. Hanji shook her head at Jean’s inquiry and Marco’s reddened face. “No, I just applied pressure so that Marco’s brain would have to readjust the new sensation. Marco, lift your arm.”

 

“S-sure.” Marco lifted his arm over his head with ease, but as he lowered it, the arm jerked about before settling by his side. 

 

“Now Marco, you stop exerting yourself. You may not feel the effects, but those prosthetics are.” Dr. Hanji put her hands on her hips. “Keep applying the ointment, but instead of the usual exercises, I want you to spend at least two hours per day on this machine.” She lightly patted the wonky box. 

 

“What kind of machine deserves a bow?” Jean tugged the bow, secretly wishing he could open the box himself. 

 

“Why don’t you boys open it and see?” Dr. Hanji raised her eyebrows, enjoying the two young men acting like little boys. 

 

Together, Marco and Jean ripped off the wrapping and stared at the revealed package in confusion.

 

\-----

 

Mikasa tugged the hoodie’s neckline over her chin and mouth. The sharp scent of lavender burned into Mikasa’s nostrils, but there was a faint odor of cologne that still hadn’t washed away. She immediately thought of her father and the kitchen where he always peeled potatoes whenever her mother prepared stew. It was the last time she ever saw him alive, when he was peeling potatoes. 

 

The hoodie’s neckline fell down the second Mikasa dropped her hand and she sighed in frustration. Soon the nauseating smell of bleach flooded her nose and images of her father dissipated with the fragrance of cologne. That’s right, she was foolish thinking she was home. No, she was stuck in a strange man’s house and was waiting for her scarf--her clothes--to finish their washing cycle so that she could dry them as quickly as possible. She felt dirty wearing a man’s hoodie and sweatpants without any underwear. 

 

It could have been worse. This situation was strange, but it could have been worse. And she still had Eren by her side. She curled her bare toes against the basement’s freezing stone floor and looked up at the ceiling. There wasn’t a cobweb in sight. What kind of man cleaned up the least visited room in the house? 

 

Mikasa shivered and tried tugging the sweatpants further down, but they refused to cover her ankles. They kept riding up until mid-calf, while the hoodie could almost double as a mini dress. She felt like Alice, but she knew this wasn’t a wonderland. The pipes leading up to the first floor bathroom ceased gurgling with water; Eren was finished with his shower. She pulled the hoodie’s neckline back over her chin and mouth. 

 

The top wooden stair creaked behind Mikasa and she quickly pulled down the neckline. It was the odd owner of the house; Levi...something. “Still sulking down here?” Levi’s voice was deep, but seemed to be permanently accented with a sardonic flair. “You’re going to have to wait a full day, unless you like wearing doll clothes.” He was dragging something and Mikasa immediately realized he was taking down a basket of laundry. 

 

She may have gotten off on the wrong foot with Levi, since he smacked her hand with his cane and bluntly told her she wreaked of rotting produce and horse feces. Mikasa assumed Levi was a pervert and just wanted an excuse to walk in on her naked, but his expression and the fact she never heard him opening the bathroom door proved otherwise. He sincerely thought she was disgusting and wanted her cleansed by soap. While being one of the biggest jerk-offs she’s ever met--and she had come across some real winners--she couldn’t get over the fact that he was missing a leg. Because of that image, Mikasa darted over to Levi, despite resentment simmering in her heart. 

 

“Here, let me get that.” Mikasa walked up the stairs and reached past Levi, towards the basket of clothes. 

 

In a flash, Mikasa was pinned against the wall and her windpipe was being crushed by Levi’s elbow. “Were you dropped on your head or were you born stupid?” Levi snarled viciously. “Who do you think put your filthy rags in the washing machine? Fairies?”

 

Mikasa gritted her teeth and smacked Levi in quick bursts. When that didn’t work, she began to dig her nails through Levi’s sleeve and into his arm. Rage bubbled from the deepest pit of her stomach as she realized Levi had her defenseless. Helpless. She decided dirty tactics were going to be her saving grace. All she needed was enough room for a swift kick. Mikasa made the mistake of meeting Levi’s intense glare. They instinctively read each other’s body language and acted accordingly.

 

Levi beat Mikasa in the race to see who would out maneuver who. He read Mikasa’s intention of kicking him in the crotch, so he slid up against Mikasa, removing the space she needed in order to swing her leg. “Your ears better not be as clogged as your brain,” Levi sneered. “I don’t need help and I don’t expect it, understand? I never want to see pity in your eyes ever, understand?”

 

Mikasa answered by glaring furiously at Levi, her rage burning through every pore of her body. 

 

“Better.” Levi removed his elbow and watched Mikasa struggle inhaling oxygen.

 

His face and right arm throbbed from Mikasa’s onslaught. This woman was a fighter and good one. Instead of screaming for help, Mikasa used the little oxygen she had left delivering potentially disabling blows. Any average man on the street wouldn’t have a chance. He waited as Mikasa’s breathing evened out, in case she had any after thoughts of kicking him down the stairs. While her dark gaze smoldered, she made no sudden movements. 

 

“You could’ve just told me.” Mikasa grumbled and clenched her fists.

 

“I did, with my elbow.” 

 

The war vet and the street fighter stared each other down; the true battle being fought between the narrow space of their bodies. Mikasa lowered her eyes, catching Levi’s missing leg, and bowed her head in reverence. She ran up the stairs, swallowing some bile along the way. She needed Eren.

 

Levi clicked his tongue and continued his sloppy descent towards the washing machine. He noticed Mikasa’s anxious pacing when Eren stepped into the shower; she walked everywhere within the house like a cat exploring its new home. Smart girl. Unusually smart girl; her eyes weren’t just dull from exhaustion, but from naivete. Mikasa Ackerman and Eren Jaeger. Research was mandatory and he knew two people perfect for aiding him. Hopefully they weren’t too busy trying to earn their angel wings. He accepted a long time ago that he was in purgatory and there was only one destination left in his life. 

 

He picked up Jaeger’s grungy jacket and remembered Mikasa pacing in front of the washing machine. He looked at the tags of the dirty clothes and then looked at the clothes tumbling in the washing machine. If her clothes were made mostly of polyester, it shouldn’t damage the clothes if he just threw them in the dryer. A flash of white caught Levi’s gaze and he waited for the right angle of rotation. The blotch of white was one cup of Mikasa’s bra turned inside out--it was actually a multi-colored, striped one--and it was completely separate from the rest of the bra. 

 

“Well if that ain’t a crap-plugger.” Levi muttered and shook his head. “Stupid kids.”

  
  
  


When Mikasa reached Eren, she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. “How are you feeling, Eren?” She asked between huffs of air.

  
  


Eren gasped when he felt Mikasa’s chilled fingers against his back and was grateful that he had just wrapped a towel around his waist. “I’m okay, Mikasa, you don’t have to squeeze me so hard.” He inhaled the robust scent of men’s shampoo and remembered they weren’t at home, but in a man’s house. Still, it was a shame Mikasa’s hair couldn’t smell like flowers, like when Mom and Dad were alive. Knowing Mikasa, he returned the hug and sighed in relief when she released him. “What did you think would happen?” He tilted his head and crossed his arms over his chest. 

 

Mikasa picked at the hemline of the hoodie and didn’t meet Eren’s gaze. “I wasn’t sure you’d be able to--able to bathe on your own.” She mumbled and her face blazed with heat.

 

“Last time I checked, I wasn’t a little kid.” 

 

“You had another episode, Eren, if you weren’t hit by the door, I don’t know what I could’ve done to ease you out of it!”

 

“I did?”

 

Mikasa looked up at Eren, her mouth twitched from turbulent emotions crashing behind her teeth. She peered deep into Eren’s green eyes, her heart aching from his naive expression. He wasn’t aware again. Only she knew Eren was made up of two personalities--well, there was Armin, but he was gone--there was Eren the boy and Eren the marauder. If anyone working for the government found out where Eren was, Mikasa knew she would lose the boy she grew up with forever. He would just be a husk; brittle and hollow.

 

“Mikasa?” Eren touched her forehead with the tip of his pointer finger. “Did you bathe too long, you seem flushed.” 

 

“I’m fine, but what about you?” Mikasa grabbed his hand and analyzed his hand. The scars glared back up at her, screaming their story--the same old story--to her since they were little. “Eren, this was different, you just bumped into a couple of guys and you started raving.” She rubbed her thumb over Eren’s palm, registering the rough scar tissue. There were many more elsewhere. 

 

As if sensing Mikasa’s train of thought, Eren tore his hand away from her and shook his head. “That’s all I did though, right? No harm done, besides, we finally get to sleep under a roof.” Eren grinned. “Captain Levi’s roof no less!” 

 

Mikasa noted the sparkle in Eren’s eyes and she clenched her fists. She had forcibly forgotten about the great Captain Levi that Eren worshipped before they became cadets. She became an unfortunate expert in the legends surrounding the captain, due to Eren’s constant gushing. While she loved Eren, she hated how much he idolized Levi and there wasn’t any proof that this was the same man. 

 

“You don’t know that for sure, Eren,” Mikasa rubbed her neck. “first off he’s too short, I mean could you see him in a fight against several  six foot soldiers?”

 

Eren opened his mouth in protest, but no sound came out. He was looking past Mikasa, towards the doorway. Mikasa turned around and raised her eyebrows when she saw Levi leaning against the doorframe. Sure, Mikasa could believe Eren gaping at the sudden appearance of his childhood hero, but what would cause the sudden silence?

 

Then Mikasa locked on to what was in Levi’s right hand. In his clutches was her bra. She stomped toward Levi, jerking her arms away from Eren when he tried to hold her back. Without saying anything, Mikasa snatched her bra out of Levi’s hand and was surprised that he didn’t resist. She gasped when one bra cup fell to the floor.

 

Levi raised an eyebrow, though his lips remained expressionless. “I’m not a fashionista, but I don’t think bras are supposed to clasp in back and the front. Unless, it’s supposed to be more convenient.” He let his words drop down on Mikasa and was rewarded with a dark glare. 

 

“D-do you need new ones?” Eren asked and flinched when he also received the glare.

 

Mikasa whipped her head around and stood to her full height as she faced off with Levi. “You didn’t have to parade these around.”

 

“My house.” Levi stated flatly.

 

“My bra.” Mikasa shot back.

 

“ My friend might be able to help you, but if you want to continue your tantrum, be  my guest.” Levi lifted his eyes up at Mikasa, challenging her.

 

“I can go by myself.” Mikasa growled and walked past Eren. She headed towards the bathroom in hopes of fixing her bra.

 

“But Mikasa, we don’t have any money.” Eren blurted and looked down when Mikasa froze in place. He was striking out.

 

Glancing at Eren, then at Mikasa, Levi sighed in exasperation and hobbled to his lift. “I’ll give her a call, but you’ll have to make do for now.” He felt odd calling out to others; the last time he had to do that--no, he wasn’t going down memory lane. 

 

“T-thank you, Sir!” Eren replied.

 

Levi shuddered and closed his eyes, pretending the boy hadn’t said anything at all. Images of E Company flashed through his mind, the last being their corpses littered about on a field. He opened his eyes and shook his head as the lift sluggishly carried him to the first floor. Jumping off just before the lift stopped, Levi steadied himself against the wall and hobbled around the kitchen perimeter until he reached the counter where his cell phone rested. After he turned it on, he gasped softly when his menu image was of Zoe with her hair down, winking at him. That woman. He quickly went to his contacts and pressed Zoe’s number. As the dull ringing reverberated through Levi’s right ear, his thoughts lingered on Zoe’s hair. It was longer and greasier than ever before, but he still had a desire to put his hand through it. Suddenly the phone clicked and Levi coughed lightly.

 

\-----

 

Jean hefted the box out of the wrapper and scrutinized the contents inside. “You know I have a few consoles already, there’s no need for another one.” He remarked as he set the box on the floor. 

 

“You shouldn’t have, Dr. Hanji,” Marco scratched his head with his normal hand. “Like Jean said, we have plenty of consoles and video games. Besides don’t Wiis cost the same since when they first came out?” 

 

Zoe lightly slapped Marco’s stomach and laughed. “They aren’t as expensive now and as I said before this machine will help you refine the movements of your prosthetics.” She watched Jean grumble softly when he took out the bubble wrapped console. “Having fun, already?”

 

“Loads.” Jean quipped. “I still don’t think this was necessary, but if there’s any chance Marco will improve, then I’ll keep my mouth shut.” 

 

Marco turned pink and subconsciously moved his prosthetic hand behind his neck. “Thanks, Jean.” He muttered.

 

Jean nodded and smiled. “From the bottom of my shriveled heart, I thank you, good doctor.” He carried the Wii over to the living room entertainment system and began figuring out how to set it all up. 

 

“Anything for my patients.” Zoe chirped.

 

“Even the jerkwad that refused your prosthetics?” 

 

“I leave no one behind.” Zoe answered huskily as she wrapped her arms around herself. 

 

“G-gotcha.” Jean looked over his shoulder, shocked at hearing the drop in Dr. Hanji’s cheery voice. 

 

There was some silence until Marco cleared his throat and haltingly lowered his prosthetic arm. “Thank you so much, Dr. Hanji, I can never--never express how grateful I am to you. Thank you.” Marco’s face flushed more when he smiled at Zoe.

 

“Marco, you’ll never have to express gratitude, because a sweet soul like you deserves the best in life.” Zoe felt tears brimming in her eyes and she knew it was from lack of sleep. Her heart was getting raw and her professionalism was slipping off. She couldn’t help it; she always despised the idea of the innocents suffering. Sleep deprivation always made her more sensitive too, like right now when her left leg began experiencing vibrations. 

 

Wait, it wasn’t her leg, but something in her pocket that was vibrating. Her cellphone! Zoe whipped out her cellphone and slid her finger across the screen to unlock it. A sloppy smirk plastered her face when she saw her wallpaper, which was a picture of Levi sleeping. It was a rare and risky time to take a snapshot, but so worth it. Her smirk left when she saw that the number calling was Levi’s cell. He never called. 

 

“Is it an emergency, Dr. Hanji?” Marco asked. 

 

A thousand scenarios played out in Zoe’s mind, but she could only remember how Levi bluntly offered his bed earlier in the day. Her hand shook violently; she wanted to answer the phone, but she was so tired and raw. She tucked the phone into her pocket, silently promising that if Levi called again, she’d answer. For now, he’d just have to deal with the answering machine. 

 

“I don’t think it is.” Zoe quietly replied. Just when the vibrating stopped, it picked up again. Zoe gulped and picked the phone back up. She immediately answered the phone, not daring to look at the picture of Levi on her phone. “Y-yes?” 

 

“Sir, I’ve called your house phone dozens of times. Why aren’t you at home?” Moblit’s voice raised in exasperation. “You promised me that you’d go straight home from the hospital!”

 

“M-moblit?” Zoe sighed in relief. “I’m sorry, Moblit, I know I promised--”

 

“--You even made me do the pinkie promise thing!” Moblit hissed into the phone. “I’m at my wit’s end! I know your vacation doesn’t start until tomorrow, but please go home from wherever you are. I was one step away from calling the police; I thought you got into an accident.”

 

“Okay, Moblit, okay,” Zoe cooed gently and giggled after hearing Moblit huff. “I just wanted to check on my favorite patients before going home. It was a last minute decision and I’m sorry I didn’t message you. I’m going home now.”

 

“Call me with your house phone the second you walk into your home.” Moblit ordered.

 

“Love you too, Moblit.” Zoe teased and was rewarded with the sound of Moblit hanging up.

 

“Was that your boyfriend?” Jean asked bluntly. 

 

“No, one of the nurses I work with.” Zoe noticed Marco sighing. “I better get going. Marco, ease up on your exercises; I want you playing on the Wii for a couple hours instead. Call me if you start feeling worse.” She patted Marco’s shoulder and gave Jean a nod. “Now you may have gotten your Christmas gift early, but behave anyway.” 

 

“This is more for Marco,” Jean winked, “I make no promises.”

 

Zoe laughed and shook her head. 

 

With a final wave of her hand, Zoe turned her back from the warm atmosphere and braced herself against the sharp sting of the winter air. 

 

Somehow, she felt like she never left her car in the first place and her interactions with Marco and Jean didn’t take place. Zoe checked the trunk and seeing that the present was gone confirmed that she didn’t hallucinate again. 

 

“Reality is what I make of it.” Zoe stated as she sat in the driver’s seat. She gripped the steering wheel tightly and stepped on the brake. 

 

The brake didn’t budge. After a few minutes, Zoe concluded she needed to turn the ignition in order to shift the gear. Remembering Moblit’s order, Zoe sighed wearily and then chuckled. She drove with the windows down and every so often, she touched her pocket, expecting another intense vibration. 

 

\-----

 

When the phone clicked, Levi expected Zoe’s voice, but not a prerecorded one. He knew she was still awake. Levi waited for prerecorded Zoe to stop blabbing before leaving a curt message. “Hey, your hearing better not be as bad as your eyesight. I have a problem that only you can help with, but I’m not going to explain it all in a couple minutes. Call back.” Levi hung up and looked at his cellphone’s wallpaper. Dark circles were under Zoe’s eyes, but so were laugh lines. Levi put his cellphone in his pant’s pocket and glanced over at his fridge, where he hung a small calendar. 

 

It was already nearing the end of December.

 

Heaving a deep sigh, Levi looked up the stairs, his ears pricking up at the clopping footsteps of the Jaeger kid. Too many years of silence made every racket teeming with life difficult to hear. Borderline painful. “At least I’ll know where they are.” Levi grumbled and made his way back up the stairs. 

  
  


\--To Be Continued--

  
  


 


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read [Lost Socks 01](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1963296/chapters/4247757) before reading Chapter Three! Otherwise some references won't make much sense.

**Chapter Three**

 

The musky smell of blossoming flowers energized every living being within the countryside’s ecosystem. Every creature bearing a purpose the moment they rose from their wintry slumber. To breed, to hunt, to provide, and to die. Mikasa knew this, even as she picked flowers in the same meadow where she watched a spider devouring a moth and where her father shot a buck a couple weeks earlier. Yet, she never dwelled on death, even when she subconsciously knew she was killing the flower by picking it, she did it anyway. After all, her mommy would love to have a fresh bouquet of flowers on the dinner table. 

 

Happy with the small bouquet of daisies, dandelions, and red poppies, Mikasa stood up and lightly brushed off her yellow sundress with her left hand. A gentle breeze wafted a fresh wave of long grass and various flowers. She ignored the heavier musk of decaying leaves still left over from the previous fall. Smiling, Mikasa secured her daddy’s straw hat on her head and ran full speed towards her home. 

 

Mikasa could see her mommy’s face now, beaming at the pleasant surprise of freshly picked flowers. Her daddy would see the bouquet, and gently pat her head in approval. She couldn’t wait to finally come ho--

 

A loud crack blasted through the sky, causing birds to screech in fear and fly away from danger. Mikasa stopped running and realized they were flying away from the direction of her home. At eight years old, Mikasa knew the sound of a shotgun blast and a sickness washed over her. It was her daddy’s shotgun and he never fired it unless it was for hunting or self defense. Fear now powered Mikasa’s legs as she sprinted down a dirt path that led to her cabin. 

 

Another crack made Mikasa cry out as she neared the cabin, her bouquet of flowers thrown to the wind. She kicked off her loosely strung boots and entered the house, breathing out of her mouth as she darted to the kitchen. Daddy was off, finally he had a day off from the lumber mill, so he would be there with Mommy. Mikasa saw nobody in the kitchen and she walked towards the stove--it was still on--and then her bare feet became soaked. 

 

Mikasa inhaled sharply when she saw her feet were dyed red and the taste of blood coated her tongue. She looked ahead and saw Daddy, still holding the shotgun, but he seemed stiff. Her subconscious grimly understood, while her eyes watered up. 

Daddy was dead.

 

Mikasa’s quiet sobs halted when she heard a scuffle upstairs. Mommy screamed out a few bad words and a couple male voices yelled in anger. She slipped when she started to run, but she quickly recovered and dashed upstairs. Mommy let out a fierce cry, similar to a momma bear when she had to protect her young from a vicious male. Mikasa clenched her jaw and charged into her parents’ bedroom. 

 

In front of Mikasa, two men were pinning down Mommy on the big bed. The front of Mommy’s dress was ripped, revealing skin. The man straddling Mommy didn’t take notice of Mikasa, since he was busy holding a knife to Mommy’s throat. The other man was holding Mommy’s wrists above her head, saw Mikasa, and smiled wolfishly.

 

“Lady Luck is on our side, the brat came to us.” The grinning man nudged his partner and now both men were staring at Mikasa.

 

Mommy thrashed violently, taking advantage of the distracted men. “Mikasa, run,  run !” Mommy snarled when the man on top of her resumed to press the knife to her throat. 

 

“I’ll get the brat.” The grinning man made the mistake of releasing Mommy’s wrists. 

 

“Run, Mikasa!” Mommy used all of her strength and lifted the man straddling her. 

 

The man panicked and applied too much pressure against Mommy’s neck, causing a geyser of blood to erupt from the wound. Mikasa screamed and ran out of the room. There was storm of expletives and Mikasa’s screaming, which halted right when Mikasa got to the staircase. A huge hand grabbed her long, black hair by the roots and yanked fiercely. It felt like her spine was being torn through her skull. 

 

\---

 

Nerves popped on the backside of Mikasa’s scalp and she clenched her jaw. The nauseating smell of various floral body sprays caused Mikasa’s chest to tighten. Trenches in a monsoon were more appealing than being inside the Jinae Mall. At least in the trenches, there was long intervals of silence instead of the constant raucous hum of families and cliques reverberating throughout the enclosed building. She tucked her hands into her hoodie sleeves. A hand wrapped around Mikasa’s left wrist, making her tremble. Mikasa turned her head and met Zoe Hanji’s observing gaze. 

 

“S-sorry.” Mikasa muttered and bowed her head slightly. 

 

Zoe smiled reassuringly and squeezed Mikasa’s hand. “Don’t be, I’m terrible at making my presence known. Except when I’m drunk.” Zoe snorted, then let loose a laugh that made Mikasa jump. Then Zoe gently released Mikasa’s hand and stood before Mikasa. “Where would you like to go, Mikasa?” 

 

Mikasa surveyed the various shops, confused by the strange titles and even stranger font used for the signs. Marketplaces were one thing, but this was foreign ground for Mikasa. One shop had a giant pair of lips as its sign; how in the world did people pronounce the name?! Another store read “Die Young”, which seemed horribly morbid for a teen fashion shop. Her cheeks heated up, knowing Zoe was expecting a definitive answer. Mikasa couldn’t bear the humiliation of admitting that she had no idea how to shop for clothes. 

 

A group of girls passed by, all giggling and chattering about various subjects. Their arms were adorned with multiple bags that smacked lightly against their legs that were covered by leggings of various patterns and colors. Mikasa clicked her steel toed boots’ heels together and idly pulled her red scarf over her mouth as she focused on the fountain in the center of the mall. 

 

She wished she didn’t need special undergarments because of her sex. If she had it her way, if it wasn’t frowned upon by her friends and family, she would have chopped off her breasts and removed any semblance of femininity. Her body didn’t feel whole anymore, so what was the point of all of this? She should be back at the house, with Eren, making sure Levi and Erwin weren’t--

 

“Mikasa? Hey, don’t drift away again.” Zoe muttered softly and stepped closer. “A bit overwhelming, eh? You’re not alone, this place isn’t my favorite haunt either.” Zoe scratched her head and squinted at the giant lips sign. “My eyesight is poorer than I thought, that sign looks like giant lips.”  

 

Air gushed out of Mikasa’s mouth, which was the closest Mikasa had ever gotten to laughter. “It is a pair of lips.” Mikasa reaffirmed softly, enjoying Zoe’s exaggerated sigh of relief. 

 

“Let’s not go to that one, because if we’re that confused by the sign, I doubt we’ll be comfortable inside.” Zoe scanned the area and then grinned in triumph. “There’s one that looks like it has the appropriate attire!” Zoe took a couple steps towards the lingerie shop before looking over her shoulder. “Mikasa?”

 

The sign read, “Nymphia’s Alcove”, ensuring Mikasa that she wasn’t going to be comfortable in this shop either. The displays had pale, headless mannequins, with long legs and wiry arms. The undergarments made Mikasa crinkle her nose; they didn’t seem sturdy enough to last a few years. There was so much lace and when Mikasa followed Zoe into the store, she noticed some of the underwear didn’t even cover the butt cheeks.  She kept close to Zoe, her only bouy in this sea of lace and frilly bra cups. 

 

“Whoo, that’s a lot of pink.” Zoe mused as she craned her neck up at the ceiling. “Ha, even the ceiling’s pink!” 

 

The saleswoman perked up when she heard Zoe’s exclamation and immediately smiled. “Hello, my name is Amanda, would you like some help today?” 

 

Mikasa stared at Amanda’s petite frame, toned legs, and expertly done make up. Amanda was relaxed in this store, this was her line of work, or perhaps her way of life. Mikasa looked down at her boots and felt like she wasn’t allowed to be there. She looked towards a mannequin further back and noticed it was headless as well. A mirror was positioned behind it, causing the illusion that Mikasa’s head was the mannequin's. She stared, blending the two contrasting images into one, but when she focused on her face, the illusion was broken. There was no way it was possible. Mikasa whipped her head when she heard her name spoken.

 

“What?” Mikasa inwardly cringed at her rough voice. She saw Amanda flinch, but Hanji just smirked. 

 

“Oh, uh, your friend admitted that both of you will need assistance, so I was just asking if you ever been measured before.” Amanda recovered skillfully and was back to displaying her whitened teeth. 

 

Mikasa’s face heated up, because she knew that this was another reason why she was a failure to her sex. She didn’t look Amanda in the eyes. “N-no, I haven’t.”

 

Zoe gave Mikasa a reassuring pat on the back. “I can’t say I’ve been either. I just slap something on that holds these girls in place and I’m good.” Zoe briefly patted her chest and grinned, causing Amanda to giggle, while Mikasa smirked. 

 

“Well, just follow me and I’ll get you ladies measured up.” Amanda chirped.

 

The mannequins with heads were worse than the headless ones. Their blank faces easily could mold into the faces of the past. Faces filled with scowls and lips dripping with criticism. Mikasa’s scalp began tingling as she passed the mannequins; she repeated in her mind that they were just mannequins. Still, her hands clenched into fists and she bit her lip. 

 

Eren.

 

\------------------

 

Everything was tinted with a sickening greenish hue. Colors were saturated enough to cause Eren’s stomach flop. Still, he he saw his mother’s face. Her hazel eyes a pair of piercing, accusative yellow. 

 

A cowardly yellow distorted Eren’s reflection in his mother’s eyes. Her wide terrible eyes that did all the screaming she couldn’t do because their house’s debris was crushing her lungs. He could hear that fierce scream echo deep in his skull.

 

“You are a coward, Eren!”

 

The eyes and scenery changed, but the same saturated color scheme remained. Eren was crying as he held Hannes in his arms, but his voice was muffled. Hannes’ eyes were also a sharp amber and while they held a deep sadness, the accusation was eerily similar.

 

“If you weren’t such a weakling, Eren.”

 

The voice rang so clear and crisp that Eren could hear them even when he covered his ears. He tried screaming so that his voice drowned out the onslaught, but he was muted. Eren couldn’t shut his eyes as the scenery warped again. Green swirled with yellow and red oozed into the mix, creating a demented lava lamp effect.

 

Just when Eren thought he was going to throw up, the warbling images stopped. Everything became quiet and Eren dropped his hands when he locked on to a boy a few feet away. The young boy was Eren and he began crying, though no sound came out. The colors blared neon, then everything went white, except the two Erens. 

 

In the deafening silence, kid Eren sobbed harder. His voice screeched as he rubbed his eyes. “M-Mama! I-I’m sorry!” Young Eren devolved into relentless, incoherent shrieks.

 

Unbridled rage filled Eren’s chest and he charged at his younger self. “How dare you.” He screamed, terrifying the child.

 

Eren brought his fists down on the child, spots of color flashed in his vision. Both Erens were screaming at the highest pitch, their voices peeling away the white walls, exposing concrete. Regardless of young Eren’s cries for mercy, Eren kept pounding, even as he heard bones snapping.

 

“Shut up, you worthless piece of--” Eren’s savage yelling halted when his vision blurred. He was crying. His eyes wouldn’t stop flooding with tears.

 

A pale hand with a scar on the back of it reached for Eren’s face. It cupped his wet cheek gently, though it was trembling and cold. Eren blinked rapidly to clear his eyes and when he looked down, he gasped. Mikasa was all bloodied up, but her dark eyes held compassion.

 

“Eren,” Mikasa whispered. “Why are you crying?”

 

\--------------

 

Eren jerked when he opened his eyes and only darkness greeted him. His arms ached from squeezing his pillow, while his back snapped at him as he hesitantly eased out of the tight fetal position. The pillow he strangled in a bear hug was what caused him to see only black. Embarrassed, Eren shoved the pillow off the bed and rolled on his back. Placing a hand around his shirt collar and then rubbing his neck, Eren sighed when it all felt damp. Heat radiated off of him, even though he was barefoot and the covers were draping over the other side of the bed. His hair clung to the back of his neck, agitating him into the sitting position. 

 

The fog cleared from Eren’s mind, but it brought no relief. A small part of him was glad that for once, he only had a nightmare instead of the usual night terror. But he still remembered. Eren rubbed his eyes and winced at their rawness. The sunlight’s cheery yellow illuminated the room, but Eren narrowed his eyes at the objects brightened by the light. He couldn’t connect the idea that the sun was on him too. 

 

It never shined for him. 

 

Looking at his scarred hands, Eren began counting all the cuts and tiny white indents of past bite marks. As he counted, he forgot about yellow sun, dark blue bedsheets, gray boxers, and green shirt. All he saw was white and eventually the numbers became a low humming--drumming rhythm from the white long ago. Drool began trickling down the corners of his mouth as he raised his right hand, which had the most scarring, up to his lips. 

 

Fierce knocking on the bedroom door broke the rhythm and Eren gasped in horror. He quickly wiped his mouth and clench his fist so his hands wouldn’t shake. He wanted to speak, but it didn’t feel right. When Levi opened the door, Eren lowered his eyes, and clenched his jaw. Colors started flooding back into Eren’s vision and he was partially relieved. He could hear Mikasa now, scolding him quietly about how it wasn’t the time and there never should be a time. He guessed it wasn’t that time either. Eren dug his short nails into his palms; of course it wasn’t the right time, when would it ever be right? 

 

That was why the sun never shined for him.

 

Leaning against the doorframe, Levi crossed his arms over his chest. “You missed breakfast, are you missing lunch too?” He frowned when Eren refused eye contact. “At least I won’t waste money on feeding you.” Levi waited for Eren to snap his head up or for his shoulders to tense; he was poking for a reaction. The girl proved she had the will to live, but this kid didn’t even change his breathing from the snide comment. “Hey, sleeping beauty, don’t make me smack you awake.” 

 

Eren briefly looked up at Levi and resumed looking at his trembling fists. “S-Sorry, Sir, I didn’t mean disrespect. I’m not feeling good.” Eren’s ears were hot from the sound of his shaking voice. He was pathetic.

 

Levi remained in his spot because he sensed the air in the room was off somehow. The kid was sweating too, which was equally off putting. Still, Levi couldn’t stop seeing himself waking up soaked in sweat from terrible dreams. Whatever these kids went through, it wasn’t something normal kids endured. And the way Eren said ‘Sir’ seemed dangerously similar to those who entrusted their lives to Levi. 

 

“Stop calling me ‘Sir’,” Levi growled. “Next time you say that, you’re getting a fist.”

 

Without questioning, Eren nodded solemnly and was surprised to hear Levi scoff.

 

“Come downstairs.” Levi ordered and turned around without waiting for a response. Not like he would get one from this spaced-out kid. Instinctively, Levi braced himself when he sensed Eren’s presence behind him. ‘ This punk just made me flinch. Why? ’ 

 

“Um, S--L-Levi, did you need help?” Eren asked quietly, whispering the last word as he realized Levi was the type of man that didn’t take assistance kindly.

 

“Shut up, and take a couple steps back.” There was an uneasy feeling in Levi’s lower stomach and his right leg started aching in his calf region. In his calf--wait. ‘ It’s not there anymore. ’ Levi reminded himself and scowled. ‘ None of it is there anymore, now get on the stupid lift. ’ 

 

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Eren waited until Levi sat in the lift and was a few steps down before he descended. He was aware of the liquid sloshing in his stomach and the idea of food nauseated him. He would eat if told to though, since he was a guest and it was rude to deny a host’s offer of a meal. Still, when he smelled the lingering scent of bacon, his stomach flopped in distress. When Eren reached the bottom step, he heard an orchestrated song playing from the living room. It was boisterous and energetic, as if an epic battle was going on. Eren idly rubbed his thumbs over the scars on his index fingers. 

 

The phantom pain dissipated, relieving Levi a little, but raising his awareness of Eren. The boy was very aloof and yet Levi sensed that this was either a façade or possibly something else. Levi watched Eren take a few steps towards the living room. It was fortunate that the kid wasn’t so perceptive, because Levi stumbled out of his lift, his body adjusting to the sudden realization that there was no right calf. 

 

“Hey,” Levi called out gruffly to Eren. “you still feel sick?”

 

Eren turned away from the music and looked at Levi. “If you want me to eat, I will.” Eren replied, feeling his ears growing hot again.

 

“It doesn’t matter what I want, though I want to have a clean house so if you think you’re going to puke, then don’t stuff your face.”

 

“But if you made--”

 

“--I didn’t. Not yet anyway. Crappy Four-Eyes and company devoured all I cooked for breakfast. You’re smelling remnants of that disaster.”

 

There was a moment of silence, which made the music in the living room come back through Eren’s ears. “Who?” Eren asked.

 

The older man shook his head. “Zoe Hanji, Erwin Smith, and your scowling companion.” 

 

“Oh, where are they now? In the living room?” Eren turned towards the room, hoping everyone was in there. He had to know the source of that music. 

 

A soft hiss from Levi made Eren’s heart sink. “Zoe and Mikasa left to go shopping after they devoured breakfast. Erwin’s in the living room.” 

 

Without thinking, Eren stepped towards the living room. He hesitated for a couple seconds and when Levi said nothing, he continued into the living room. The music forced itself into Eren’s eardrums and flooded down his body. Eren shivered and grinned; his arms tingled with goosebumps. He focused on the TV screen, fascinated by the character that was climbing up a grassy wall. When the strings surged in the battle music, Eren tensed and watched the hero struggle. Eren flinched when the hero lost his grip and began falling.

 

The way the protagonist fell captivated Eren; it was clumsy. It made the protagonist lifelike and Eren remembered when he was a kid climbing trees. Clumsy. Eren gasped when a giant hoofed foot stepped next to the hero. A smile spread on Eren’s face as he realized that the grassy wall was a giant leg. 

 

A quiet curse from the couch broke Eren’s concentration on how the hero tumbled from the impact. It was the reindeer man Eren took down the night before. Yet the Erwin Smith of today didn’t match the Erwin Smith from last night. Eren felt a “Sir” on the tip of his tongue when Erwin glanced at him. Erwin wore a simple buttoned shirt and jeans, but his posture--though relaxed--commanded respect. Their eye contact was brief, since Erwin went back to his game. Eren feared if he stared too long that unsettling smile would appear on Erwin’s face. Thankfully, the game itself was distracting enough so there was no uncomfortable silence.

 

Fall. Flail. Tumble. Still. Flail. Stand. Flail. Fall. Tumble. 

 

There was an itch forming on Eren’s hand--he could feel the outlines of his scars tingling. He was getting restless witnessing Erwin fail time and again at climbing the giant. A tiny breath brushed over the surface of his brain, his nerves flickering at the suggestion. Just take the controller from Erwin and play it; he could do better, he knew he could do better. Eren released a sigh from fighting the impulse, but he realized too late that the action could be interpreted as a sigh of impatience. 

 

The blonde man smiled sheepishly, yet he never looked away from the screen. “I’m not much of a gamer, unfortunately.” Erwin  admitted. His voice seemed hoarse, Eren guessed it was last night’s escapades. 

 

“O-Oh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t sighing because of your skill.” Eren rubbed the back of his neck, the heat being ramped up again.

 

After hearing Eren apologize, Levi entered the room and watched the screen for a few seconds. “You’re still stuck on the first colossus?” Levi shook his head as Erwin chuckled. “Give me the controller.” Levi demanded.

 

Erwin didn’t put up a fight, which baffled Eren. The bigger man had the aura of authority and he still yielded. Eren lost concentration on that thought once he saw Levi’s level of skill. For a while, Eren remained silent dreading that if he spoke up, Levi would falter.

 

“Hey, totem pole, why don’t you sit down.” Levi scooted over on the couch, opening up a seat for Eren.

 

Following orders, Eren sat down next to the man he idolized as a kid. And he was shocked at how normal Levi appeared. Here was the First War’s greatest legend, sitting in regular clothes, playing video games. Levi was in shape, but Eren imagined the War’s golden boy would be larger. After all, he carried the country’s hope on his shoulders. Unlike Erwin’s posture, Levi carried himself in a manner that didn’t suit an iconic soldier. There were whispers of Levi’s past; one full of crime and violence. The wrong kind of violence, not authorized by the government. Still, Eren didn’t feel an ounce of confidence that he could take down Levi.

 

It was Levi’s shoulders, they drooped slightly, but not from bad posture. Eren briefly remembered Hannes’ shoulders, how they drooped after years of military service and how they creaked whenever he tried carrying Eren after a bad episode. It was the shoulders of Atlas. Broad and strong, but worn down. Still, Eren didn’t feel an ounce of weakness emanating from Levi. Just the gentle breathing of humanity. Eren wouldn’t have expected less from his hero.

 

Without faltering once, Levi maneuvered the hero on top of the colossus’ head and positioned himself for a heavy strike. Eren twitched when the colossus let out a painful cry and began thrashing around. He grabbed his knees and held his breath. Levi had the hero cling for dear life, until the colossus calmed down and continued walking. Then he pierced the colossus’ skull again, directly through the glowing insignia. 

 

“The hero’s name is Wander, in case you were curious.” Erwin spoke up, tilting his head back so that he could get a good view of Eren behind Levi’s hunched body. 

Eren stared at Erwin blankly, before realizing that a fact was just thrown at him. “Oh, uh, thanks.” Eren returned his quiet observation of Levi’s skills.

 

There was one last strike left, Eren inhaled as the sword raised up and exhaled when it sunk into the colossus’ head. Time slowed down in the game as the final blow struck. A cinematic played while a choir vocalized mournfully the passing of the colossus. As the earthy giant collapsed, Eren’s stomach tightened.

 

“D-do the giants have names?” Eren asked hoarsely.

 

Erwin looked up at the ceiling and crossed his arms. “That is a good question, I don’t think they do--”

 

“--Valus.” Levi glanced at Eren, then resumed watching the colossus fall. 

 

“I thought the fans made up those names.” Erwin mused.

 

“Better than not having one at all.” Levi retorted.

 

Black ribbons sprung out of Valus’ corpse and even though Wander was running away, the ribbons still caught up to him. Wander groaned when the ribbons stabbed him through his back and out of his chest. Eren gripped his knees harder as his chest ached. Wander fell and Eren’s eyelids along with him. Nothing but black. 

 

Levi nudged Eren. “Oi, you’re not going to puke are you?” 

 

Eren shook his head and opened his eyes.  “I-I would like to play, please.” Eren looked over at Levi. 

 

“You’re interested.” Levi confirmed his own musings when he watched Eren earlier. Without waiting for Eren’s response, Levi exited the game. 

 

Erwin leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Levi, was that necessary?” He assumed the tone of a criticizing father, which Levi scoffed at.

 

“I’m not going to play the game for him, he needs to start from the beginning. Besides, he missed the opening scene.” 

 

“Oh.” Erwin resumed his relaxed posture and observed Levi. “That’s nice of you.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

The controller was shoved into Eren’s hands and he almost fumbled the catch. When he adjusted his hands around the controller, he tightened his grip, making sure he wouldn’t drop it again. Without any prompting from Levi, Eren started the game. The older men in the trio watched, waiting for Eren to acknowledge their presence again, but he never did.

 

“Erwin, let’s go.” Levi carefully adjusted himself as he prepared to stand up.

 

Watching Levi’s lengthy routine of doing the simple task of standing made Erwin clench his jaw. It would be so much easier if Levi allowed prosthetics. Stubborn. Erwin took a moment to gently brush his left hand over his right hand. He imagined a wave of tingling nerves and his brain caused his right index finger to twitch on cue. It would be easier. But in all their years of camaraderie, Levi never allowed himself to stroll the gentler path. He got worse after the fail--

 

“Erwin.”

 

Levi’s tone was gruff, but it was accented with weariness. Erwin rose up and met Levi’s eyes. A stubborn, old, soldier already exhausted from exchanging a few words. If Levi didn’t adapt soon, he would end up a pillar upholding the brutal past. A grim pillar of all the mistakes made during the First War. Never digging up the past and flinging it at the next generation, but never covering the holes so that the youth won’t stumble or fall in. 

 

Erwin was zoning out again and Levi gave up at the staring contest. He turned and headed towards the kitchen. Once he made it to the sink, he was aware that Erwin had also entered the room and took his spot at the buffet. The way Erwin sat on the stool irritated Levi; it was fluid and unconscious. The men said nothing for a while and the opening theme of the video game gently played through the walls. 

 

Releasing a sigh, Levi leaned against the kitchen sink and focused on the faucet. There was a film covering the mouth of the faucet again. He crinkled his nose and straightened himself up. “I see your hand-eye coordination is as clumsy as ever.” Levi commented coldly. 

 

“That bad, huh? Maybe I should give up on playing video games.” Erwin chuckled, attempting to ease the tension.

 

Levi wasn’t allowing it.

 

“They still don’t work, do they?” Levi jutted his chin briefly towards Erwin’s right hand. 

 

Erwin put on a stoic front. 

 

“Well enough. A major improvement from ten years ago.” 

 

“But still crap at pressing buttons.” 

 

“Levi, it’s still a major improvement. Eren didn’t even notice.” Erwin tapping his fingers on the buffet’s countertop. A dull metallic clink sounded each time a fingertip crashed on the hard surface. “Just imagine in five more years or ten more. It can only go up, Levi.” 

 

Lowering his head, Levi let out a coarse, mocking chuckle. “The only things that have gone up are the bureaucrats’ hands up your ass.” He snarled.

 

Erwin shut his eyes and clenched his right hand. No matter what the slogans and pamphlets gushed, there wasn’t equality in the military. What a general went through and what the lower ranks went through were different. Everyone needed a tough skin, but to be a leader meant to develop a different shell. Sacrifices were the norm for Erwin, but it seemed that Levi struggled with his.

 

“Levi, I don’t want another fight. It’s almost the new year after all. Tell me what favor you want and I’ll leave.” Erwin replied calmly. 

 

Levi rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand. He glanced at Erwin’s false hand and dropped his own hand. “These kids that are staying with me. Eren Jaeger and Mikasa Ackerman. I want a search done on them.” Levi crossed his arms over his chest when Erwin smirked.

“Consider it done.” Erwin was instantly on his feet.

 

“Wait.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“A search and nothing more. If anyone in a suit appears at my doorstep, I’m killing them and going off the grid. Information just between us.”

 

“Never simple.”

 

“Otherwise I’d be you.”

 

Both stiffened when they heard loud sobbing crashing through their ears. Levi grumbled when Erwin took off with ease, while he hobbled along. When he got to the living room, Erwin was sitting next to Eren, his eyes filled with concern. The boy was sobbing uncontrollably, the controller trembling in his hands. 

 

Levi looked around for any sign of blood or broken furniture; anything that may have triggered such a dramatic reaction. Frustrated, he narrowed his eyes at Eren. “What’s wrong?” He demanded.

 

Breathing was hard for Eren and every exhale was a sob. He was so embarrassed, but the feeling came on him fast and he couldn’t suck it up now. When Levi demanded an answer, it took Eren a minute to reply. Eren squeezed his eyes tight and gently put his forehead on the controller. After that gesture, he opened his eyes, looked at Levi and sniffled.

 

“Wander’s trying to bring her back.” Eren croaked and shook his head. “He wants her back so badly.” He broke into another series of sobs. 

 

At this point, Levi dropped his arms and looked at the screen. Wander was standing before the body of a young woman who appeared to be sleeping on an altar. But she was dead. 

 

She was dead.

 

When Levi turned his attention back to Eren, he wasn’t surprised that Erwin was comforting the boy. Levi watched Erwin gently placing a hand on Eren’s back. His fake hand. Softly scoffing, Levi went into the kitchen. He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and brought it over to the faucet. He hesitated and changed his direction to the fridge. He left the glass on the counter and took a bottle of water from the fridge. He scowled when he saw Erwin’s relieved expression. 

 

“Levi brought you some water, Eren.” Erwin spoke gently.

 

Eren dropped the controller and held his head in his hands. He sobbed as his stomach burned and gurgled. He was furious at his weakness and existence. 

 

Erwin made eye contact with Levi and furrowed his eyebrows to match Levi’s deepening scowl. This was not a matter to be taken lightly. 

 

Eren Jaeger and Mikasa Ackerman.

 

\-----------------------------

 

The handles of the bags bit into Mikasa’s right palm, even though the contents were light. The tissue paper probably made for most of the weight, though Mikasa didn’t understand why it was necessary to flood the bag with pink. She cringed as her feet clomped hard next to Zoe’s brisk taps. They were finally finished with buying the necessities. Mikasa hoped her burning face would ebb away soon. 

 

Amanda was polite and courteous throughout the whole ordeal. Mikasa knew she was her own worst enemy. Whenever Amanda went to measure, Mikasa would instinctively tense up or even try to grab Amanda’s hands. How could she explain herself, though? There was never enough time. Despite a few hiccups, Amanda was successful at outfitting Mikasa and Zoe with comfortable bras. Mikasa left with four, which was overkill in her opinion, but Zoe insisted. Zoe herself bought three and didn’t bat an eye when the bill turned out high.

 

Mikasa would’ve returned everything right then and there; it was too burdensome. It would save so much money if she just bought gauze and wrapped her chest tightly. In fact, that wasn’t such a bad idea, if she could just get Zoe to turn around. 

 

“U-uh, Zoe?” Mikasa skidded to a screeching halt when Zoe stopped on a dime.

“Mikasa, you’re not returning them.” Zoe put her hands on her hips and glared. “I told you before, this is a favor. Meaning you owe me nothing.” 

 

“I-I’m sorry, it’s just so expensive.” Mikasa blurted and quickly covered her mouth with the scarf.

 

Zoe grinned, “Sorry, I couldn’t see the amount clearly.” she let her statement hang and chuckled when Mikasa’s face lit up in realization. “Keep it up and I’ll drag you into some clothing stores.” 

 

“S-Sorry.” Mikasa avoided Zoe’s eyes and gazed towards the other side of the corridor. 

 

Mikasa glanced at a crowd of young people and almost thought nothing of it. Yet one person in the group had a noticeable haircut that made her do a double take. When she saw the blonde hair and rounded eyes, Mikasa’s heart fell into her intestines. 

 

It was Armin Arlert. 

 

A couple of years had passed since their last meeting. Mikasa saw Zoe turn her attention towards Armin as well; most likely curious as to what Mikasa was gawking at. The young man seemed distant from the other three in their group, but when he stopped to look back at Mikasa and Zoe, the others halted immediately. 

 

As Armin’s eyes widened with recognition, Mikasa braced herself; a bad habit from the past. She was torn between happiness and terror. They agreed to part ways so that they could gather information and to protect Eren. But it didn’t lessen the pain of separation. Still, Armin chose to infiltrate the infrastructure of the government. He would always be a good friend since childhood, but a couple years behind enemy lines could change anyone. 

 

The two old friends stood on opposite ends of the area, silently judging who should take the first step. Mikasa decided on standing her ground, since the other three people in the group were baffled by Armin’s behavior. Armin straightened his shoulders and took the initiative. Mikasa struggled at hiding a smile; Armin was always the shy child, mumbling behind a book. He had grown confident over the years. 

Zoe observed the blonde young man approach them with fervor. He was a tad slender for a man his age, but judging by his gait and shoulder width, he was not lacking in muscle. His eyes were rounded, giving a childish appearance, but anyone with enough sense could tell he was extremely intelligent. Calculative. And the most important factor was that this young man knew Mikasa. Zoe grinned when the young man stopped in front of Mikasa. This was going to be interesting. 

 

Mikasa tilted her head up slightly to meet Armin’s eyes. Her stomach unclenched when he gave her a gentle smile. “Armin, it’s been--” Mikasa gasped when Armin embraced her. 

 

“Thank God, you’re okay!” Armin squeezed Mikasa before releasing her. His eyes were brimming with tears. “When I found about what happened to Han--”

 

A low, brief hiss shot out of Mikasa’s lips and she subtly shifted her eyes to her right, towards Zoe. 

 

“O-Oh, sorry, it’s been so long.” Armin looked at the woman accompanying Mikasa and shivered when he noticed her large grin. “Hello, Ma’am.” 

 

“Hi, Zoe Hanji, but you can just call me Zoe.” Zoe shook Armin’s hand and held it. His hands were small, but the bone structure wasn’t deformed in any way. His palms were a little damp--probably from witnessing her grin--yet his grip was strong, implying what she figured. This kid was comfortable in his skin and was a survivor. 

 

Erwin Smith.

 

If Armin met Zoe Hanji at a younger age, he would’ve tried to wriggle his hand out of her grip. Years of meeting eccentric people however made him grow a higher tolerance for unusual behavior. Instead, he took this time to analyze Zoe Hanji. The name was very familiar, but the image didn’t quite match his expectations. And a part of him was relieved. 

 

“I’m Armin Arlert, nice to meet you in person, Dr. Hanji.” Armin smiled, inwardly cringing at his face heating up from the prolonged handshake. He still had a lot of growing to do.

 

Mikasa raised an eyebrow at the exchange. “A-anyway, Armin, is there some way we can meet up?” She ignored Zoe’s stunned expression; it would take too long to explain the details. 

 

Armin’s polite smile drooped and his next words were strained. “Where’s Eren?”

 

Years of friendship could not be hidden in front of strangers. Mikasa put her hands on Armin’s upper arms and rubbed them. “Eren’s with me, but he’s getting worse.” Mikasa whispered. 

 

“Oh, God.” 

 

“I,” Mikasa choked on her next words. She couldn’t get herself to say that she couldn’t do much more for Eren. He was slipping away from her each time he had an episode. She swallowed down her lump and continued. “I need to meet with you.”

 

“Of course, I can call you.” Armin watched Mikasa’s eyes widen. “Y-you don’t have contact information again?” 

 

Mikasa shook her head.

 

Zoe, desperate to help out, barged into the solemn conversation. “I can buy her a cell phone, if that would help out!”

 

“Oh no, you don’t need to, Zoe.” Mikasa flinched when Zoe intensified her stare. 

 

By now, the other members of Armin’s group had approached and Mikasa subconsciously took a couple steps back. There was a young man with a shaved head with stubble, which would set off warnings in Mikasa’s mind, but his lopsided grin eased her somewhat. The girl next to him had long, brown hair in a high ponytail and she looked drowsy. Occasionally, the man would gently brush his arm up against hers in order to keep her awake. The third person stepped up next to Armin and Mikasa took one half step back. 

 

He was taller than the whole group, but his countenance was what made Mikasa tense. He had blonde hair on top, but for some reason, he had darker hair in the back. It seemed like he wasn’t too fond of Armin, judging by his scowl whenever he glanced at Armin. But when his eyes fell on her. Mikasa tucked her hands inside her sleeves and returned the tall man’s stare. To her surprise, he lowered his gaze and his face tinged with pink. 

 

“Oh sorry, these are my colleagues.” Armin was about to introduce the trio, but the jovial young man interrupted. 

 

“I’m Connie Springer,” Connie wrapped an arm around the young woman’s small shoulders. “this is Sasha Braus!” He squeezed Sasha and she grunted a short greeting. 

 

“Nice to meet you.” Mikasa replied and ignored Connie’s expectant expression. She wasn’t going to reveal her name just yet. Feeling the left side of her head prickle, Mikasa turned her attention to the third person. She narrowed her eyes when she realized he was gawking at her again. 

 

Connie noticed the gawking man not saying anything,  so he gave him a light whack behind his head. “Hey, man, stick your tongue back in and speak!”

 

“I-I’m Jean Kitsch--I mean--Kirschstein.” The awkward man blurted.

 

Mikasa only nodded at him and then looked at Armin. “Do you mind waiting around while I get a phone?” She gasped when Zoe cheered and hugged her.

 

“You’re learning!” Zoe cooed. 

 

Armin chuckled at the spectacle. “Sure, if these guys don’t mind.” 

 

“Nah, we don’t mind, right Jean?” Connie bumped into Jean, Sasha still under his arm. 

 

“I-uh-sure.” Jean resisted Connie’s shoving for a few more moments. “Talk to you later, Armin!” Jean called out before succumbing to Connie’s shoves. 

 

Armin grimaced at Jean’s words, but forgot the second Zoe offered her arm to him. “Shall we, Mr. Arlert?” She asked teasingly.

 

“S-sure.” Armin awkwardly hooked his arm through Zoe’s and sighed in relief when Zoe did the same action to Mikasa. 

 

The trio haltingly made their way to the nearest cell phone kiosk. As Mikasa stumbled, she caught a group of teenage girls looking at her and giggling. The sound of her boots clomping hammered at her heart. Even Armin’s steps were soft. Her stomach began knotting up again as the mannequins within each display seemed lean forward in order to figure out what type of creature clomps on two legs.

 

\--------------------------------------------

  
  


It could only be described as bizarre in Levi’s book. Damn spooky, to be more specific. Hours ago, the Jaeger kid was bawling his eyes out, and now he was nearing the halfway point of the game. The only evidence of his sob fest were his puffy eyes. Erwin would drop tidbits of trivia to Eren, but barely spoke a word to Levi. It was better that way. 

 

The front door clicked as someone deftly unlocked it. Levi quietly sighed; soon he could slam the door behind Erwin Smith and only have to deal with occasional phone calls. 

 

“Honey, I’m home!” Zoe called out as she took off her shoes and shut the door behind her and Mikasa. 

 

“Welcome back!” Erwin replied lightheartedly. 

 

“What took you so long?” Levi demanded as Zoe waltzed into the room with Mikasa. 

 

“It’s not a carwash, Levi.” Zoe retorted. 

 

Without a word, Mikasa knelt down in front of Eren and grabbed his face. “Your face is splotchy and your eyes are puffy. Why?” She glared at Erwin, the knots in her stomach unraveling into vicious whips. 

 

Eren lifted his head so that he could escape Mikasa’s grip. “I’m fine, I just cried because of the game.” He grumbled as his face reddened. 

 

Erwin raised his eyebrows as Mikasa’s glared intensified. This one was suffering worse than Eren. “ Shadow of the Colossus is an emotionally driven video game.” He stated calmly. 

 

“Oh, that’s such a sad game, I never finished it because I didn’t want to kill the colossi.” Zoe added and smirked at Levi. “I see you dug up some old toys.”

 

“It’s to keep them out of my way.” Levi grunted and lingered his gaze on Zoe’s face. “You should wear contacts.”

 

“They make my eyes itch,” Zoe brushed off Levi’s comment and looked at Mikasa’s back, still feeling Levi’s stare. “Mikasa is it okay if I tell them why we were held up for a while?”

 

Mikasa gave up trying to wipe Eren’s face with her scarf and stood up. “I’ll tell them.” She answered gruffly, despite trying to sound softer. “Eren, I saw  him today.” She dug into her hoodie pocket and pulled out a shiny, green rectangular cell phone. “I got us a cell phone plan, with the help of Zoe. He will call tonight.” Mikasa glanced at Erwin, daring him to ask any questions.

 

Eren stared at the green cell phone and then looked up at Mikasa. “Are you sure?” 

 

She nodded solemnly and handed Eren the cell phone. “There’s no going back now.” She murmured. 

 

Levi took the small pillow that decorated the recliner he lounged on and smacked Zoe lightly on the arm. “You only had to get one thing.” He scolded as he placed the pillow behind him. 

 

“I never was good at numbers.” Zoe joked. “Also, it’s called generosity. ‘Tis the season and all that.” 

 

Shaking his head, Levi looked at the kids as they began learning how to use their new phones. They needed more than just seasonal generosity. Levi noticed Erwin observing the two kids as well and he looked down at his missing leg. 

 

Stupid kids.

 

\----------To Be Continued----------

 


	4. Chapter Four

                                                                

Armin walked out of the dorm building, his gloved hands in his brown winter coat’s pockets. Tiny streams of carbon-monoxide trailed from his mouth as he continued down the sidewalk. This winter was milder than the previous ones, but Armin couldn’t shake of the chill at the base of his spine. Birds weren’t singing, only the crackling sound of branches breaking from the weight of snow. There weren’t many students around campus, which was understandable given that winter break was still ongoing. They had homes and families waiting for them. Those words lost their warmth for Armin years ago.

 

He remembered the lies he told to other classmates and the fake smiles that ended them. It was enough for them. And he spent a good week convincing himself that it was good enough for him too. Nobody needed to be bothered with his sob story of a past; he was sick of it himself. The holidays were a happy time for many people and he didn’t want to see the shadows fall over their faces or the flashy grins taint with solemn condolences. Homes and families. Foreign words from an ancient time period. Armin shivered as a frigid gust of wind whizzed through him.

 

The coat was thin, worn out from consistent use. How many years, now? It didn’t matter anymore. It was enough. A musky scent  wafted into Armin’s nose and his breath hitched. In a moment, he was eleven years old, rolling a giant ball of snow in the front yard. He got it to the point where he couldn’t roll it anymore, but it wasn’t big enough. Just when he was ready to give up, a pair of large hands splayed above his smaller ones and pushed. The musk was heavier back then, but the warmth was there in this moment. Armin strained his little neck looking up, but he only saw an outline and the heated breath spilling out.

 

Grandpa.

 

That was enough.

 

The wind ceased and the scent dissipated. Armin coughed, but his chest still ached. There was no time for this, maybe later on when he was by himself, but not at this moment. Wait. Armin looked up at the sky, his legs planted into the sidewalk, and he began counting. One. Two. Three. Why--Four. Is--Five. Six--his. Shadow--Seven. Eight--Gone? Nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteenfifteensixteenseventeeneighteen--

 

Armin inhaled deeply and kept inhaling until his lungs crackled from the intense cold. He forced several coughs and briskly brushed his eyes free of any tears. It was years ago, it was the same old story, it was the same cycle every holiday season. He wasn’t going to do it again. It had to stop spinning. Armin’s ears pricked and he whipped his head around.

 

Tires--worn tires, possibly two years old--approaching a little too fast, brakes were squealing--they probably had a couple months left in them--judging by how long the driver had to brake, there had to be more than one person in the car. Armin smirked briefly to himself when the dark green car creeped up next to him. There were three people in car, the tires did look worn and saggy, and the brakes just ended their screech fest when the driver put it in park.

 

He remembered Connie’s late night text about how he was having a friend driving them to the mall, so the different car didn’t startle him. However, when he bent down to look into the car window, he gaped in shock. The driver was Jean Kirschstein, a fellow classmate, but Armin didn’t dare to even use the word acquaintance. Armin swallowed and glanced towards the back seat. To his relief, Connie and Sasha were sitting in the back. His stomach tensed; he would have the front passenger seat.

 

The base of Armin’s spine twinged when he entered the car and even though the car was warm, he shivered. “Hey guys.” Armin greeted with his tongue constantly sticking to the roof of his mouth.

 

“Armin!” Connie reached out and patted Armin’s shoulders. “Hope you didn’t wait too long, Jean helped me find a garage to put my hunk of junk in first.”

 

“Sorry to hear about that Connie.” Armin buckled himself in, keeping his eyes lowered at all times.

 

“Ah, I figured it would give out smack dab in the winter. I would get rid of it, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. Mom’s car and all.” Connie murmured the last part, but Armin picked it up. He also heard Sasha scoot closer to Connie. That was why the front seat was the only option. “It’s not a full loss, Jean said he’ll drive me and Sasha anywhere.”

 

Jean leered at Armin Arlert. “Just Connie and Sasha, though. I’m not a school bus.” Jean clutched the gear and jerked it viciously into drive.

 

So there it was; the first shot. Armin kept his face neutral as he stared out the windshield. “If you can’t tell, I don’t need rides to school. I live here.”

 

“Sorry, I think you’re confusing this college as an elementary school.” Jean put on a fake smile. “I can gladly drive you over to Stohess Elementary.”

 

So Jean was always holding back in presence of other students and the professor. Armin returned Jean’s fake smile with a dazzling one of his own. “No thank you, but are you sure you know the way to the mall? I know there’s a lot of signs with big words like ‘STOP’ or ‘WRONG WAY’, so I don’t want you getting confused.”

 

Jean scowled and gassed it out of the parking lot. “Smartass.” He snarled under his breath.

 

Armin’s ears prickled at hearing the insult and he sank back into the car seat. As usual, Connie began diffusing the situation, but Armin didn’t hear it. Just another cycle repeating itself again. All these wheels spun around him as he stood stagnating in the center. He looked out the window and pondered if he would get injured if he jumped out of the vehicle. Centrifugal force whirling at high speed could be enough.

 

Enough.

 

“--apologize Jean, there’s no reason for raised hackles.” Connie finished and leaned forward so that his head appeared in Armin’s peripheral.

 

“There is a reason and you knew about it.” Jean snapped back.

 

“You’re seriously going to do this? What, are we in high school all over again?” Connie scolded and Sasha began grumbling under her breath. He retreated to the back seat, petting Sasha’s head and reassuring her gently.

 

Again, again, again and again. Armin bit his inner cheek before sitting up straight. “Jean, it wasn’t personal. Those debates were initiated during class and while my personal opinions may have strengthened my research, I never had the intention of insulting you and your beliefs.” He saw the upcoming stoplight and gripped the handle on the ceiling of the car, knowing Jean would slam the brakes.

 

“Your personal opinions on the First War were monstrous. I can’t believe you convinced the entire class and the professor that your screwed up views were correct.” Jean glared at Armin. “How can you support it all, knowing there were veterans--the real soldiers who fought--suffering from it? You can talk big because you weren’t there. I don’t give a damn about what your papers say--you’re no soldier--just some egghead sitting in a highchair. My personal opinion is that you don’t deserve any of the government’s money.”

 

So there it was. The reason why Jean never smiled whenever Connie called Armin over. Why, after the heated mock debate in class, Jean never shook Armin’s hand. It was too close to home. That rotating subject flung through Jean’s heart, making it personal. Despite the professor’s disclaimer, despite the reassurances from Armin’s classmates that his argument wasn’t heartless.

 

Their clapping at the end were bullets that whizzed past Jean. Friendly fire. Armin knew there were plenty of people who opposed the First War, especially after the recovery of Marco Bodt, and nobody dared mentioning the Silent War. That was why Armin took the opposing side, because it seemed that it wasn’t the most liked opinion. And yet they clapped so uproariously. The professor even wrote on Armin’s debate notes that he was uncannily similar to Erwin Smith.

 

Once again, Connie shifted in his seat, preparing to be a mediator. Armin knew Connie just wanted two of his friends to be friends. In another time, perhaps, but not this time. War was a heavy pebble and everyone, soldier and citizen, felt every ripple. Jean purposely gassed it when the light turned green, making Connie fall backwards.

 

“Jean, I never said I deserved the funding I received. And you’re right I’m not a soldier.” Armin sighed heavily, relieving some of the pressure in his chest. “But I was there. I witnessed unspeakable things and frankly, you weren’t my trenchmate so you can shove your judgement up--”

 

“You didn’t even lose a pinky.” Jean interjected angrily.

 

The frigid air whipped around the car, but the heat inside made the windows fog up a little. Connie sighed in irritation, while Sasha played with her hair nervously. Jean tensed up as he drove, barely even blinking as he adjusted the settings so that the windows wouldn’t fog up anymore. Armin looked out of his window, afraid of even breathing too loudly. He finally was able to get to the root of the problem, but as usual the truth was ugly. The car felt as if it was contracting, shrinking even, and Armin caught himself flinching when Jean moved to adjust the temperature in the car.

 

Everyone jumped when Sasha released a giant yawn. “We didn’t lose pinkies either, Jean.” She stated drowsily and patted Jean on the shoulders. “Still hurts though.” She sighed as she sank into her seat.

 

Jean scoffed, but his body relaxed. In the silence, everyone agreed with Sasha’s statement. Nobody dared to admit it though.

 

\----------------------------------

 

Walking through the mall calmed Jean down, but he still refused to apologize. They could agree to disagree. Thankfully, Connie gave it a rest as the mediator and turned his attention to Sasha’s needs. Armin was amicable towards the group though he was the quietest one. Guilt started nagging Jean after the fifth shop and it didn’t seem so hard to pretend at least that everything was okay. But the image of Marco hooked up to several machines killed all of his guilt.

 

Armin claimed being in the trenches, but he didn’t end up like Marco. Jean clenched his jaw, remembering how Marco struggled recounting his time as a POW. But the lawyers, generals, reporters, and military police needed to be sure. They were so bent on giving as little money as possible to Marco, but a runt like Armin got a free pass through college.

 

Jean understood why Armin got the upperhand too. The government saw their money’s worth in the egghead. Whereas someone like Marco was a liability. He was a good poster child, but he wouldn’t benefit future generations in warfare. Jean remembered carrying Marco just so that he could go to the bathroom. The day he got his prosthetics. The tears that Marco shed because he couldn’t rise from the couch due to a screw in the false kneecap being screwed too tightly. Getting used to broken plates, bent utensils, doors accidentally slamming, and the occasional busted toilet seat. All the times Marco clutched his metallic prosthetic limbs and sobbed when he thought Jean wasn’t around.

 

A strong urge rooted itself inside Jean’s mind. It was immature, but Jean wanted to kick Armin’s kneecaps. Just so that someone could have an inkling of what Marco went through. Then Jean sensed Armin stopping. There was a brief moment where Jean believed he announced his intent in public, but Connie didn’t scold him. What could be so important?

 

“Jean, check it.” Connie muttered.

 

Jean followed Connie’s eyes and he saw two women also standing still. Immediately, Jean noticed Dr. Hanji and almost waved. He completely forgot how to wave once he took a closer look at the other woman. Everything he clutched to bubbled up from his mind. He watched Armin walk boldly towards the fierce looking lady. A light scoff left his lips, but the young woman’s stance was breathtaking. When Armin hugged the woman, Jean clenched his fists. This world was cruel. Taking the initiative, Jean caught up to Armin; he had to get a closer look at this Artemis. The young woman’s face was smooth, but held so much depth. Her eyes, oh, her eyes were darkened by knowledge of this world. She gave off an intense aura.

 

If Artemis took human form, Jean was looking at her. He briefly recalled the myth of Actaeon and he glanced away, afraid he might turn into a stag. But he returned his gaze towards her hair. It was starless night and the lights reflection off of it appeared as shooting stars. He was falling. When the warrior goddess glared at him, Jean blushed. He felt Connie smack him on the back of the head.

 

“Hey, man, stick your tongue back in and speak!”

 

“I-I’m Jean Kitsch--I mean--Kirschstein.”

 

“Mikasa.”

 

Heat flared across Jean’s face as he heard Mikasa speak up. So much strength supported her husky tone. This woman commanded respect. He had to know more about Mikasa. Before Jean knew it, Armin was gone from their group. Connie and Sasha started passing him, but he grabbed Connie’s arm.

 

“Where’s Armin going?” Jean demanded.

 

Connie raised an eyebrow at Jean’s sudden change in attitude towards Armin. He remembered how Jean was acting stranger than usual as they stood in front of Mikasa. Of course. Smiling, Connie put his left arm around Sasha’s small waist and moved his right arm out of Jean’s grip. “Armin’s going to help an old friend and it’s none of our business.” Connie baited Jean.

 

“Old friends?” Jean repeated to himself. An image of Mikasa’s intense stare made Jean shiver and he realized what he had to do. “Connie, do you have Armin’s cell number?”

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Armin cheeks ached from smiling, but for once it wasn’t from force. Dr. Hanji chatted the entire time and Mikasa’s short answers made the conversation hilarious. The doctor’s car was small, but comfortable. Armin eased back and breathed deeply. Mikasa and Eren were alive. Suddenly, he jerked, his body unaccustomed to losing attentiveness. He choked when Mikasa whipped her head around, aware of his involuntary spasm; her dark eyes held that same motherly concern. He wondered if his mother would have had that expression.

 

“It’s weird for me too.” Mikasa stated, knowing Armin would understand.

 

Relaxing was a lesson taught, not a habitual pastime. There were still pieces in Armin’s mind, the same as Mikasa’s, where there existed a childish belief that everything was fine. They felt it strongest when all of them were together, which was why they couldn’t stay close. Fondness and friendship dulled their senses, the battlefield proved it time and again. But now, wartime was over, at least that was what the news stated. Armin nodded at Mikasa as he straightened in his seat.

 

“It never should’ve been.” Armin murmured under his breath.

 

For once, Dr. Hanji’s chatter wasn’t playing in the background and Armin glanced at her. She had her eyes fixated on the road, but her expression was grim. Even with the silence, the small car felt more comfortable than Jean’s car. The car slowed down and Armin braced himself, expecting danger. He saw in his peripheral that he was back at the college dorms and blushed in embarrassment. Dr. Hanji didn’t have to give him a ride home and he treated her as a potential threat.

 

Armin gently squeezed Mikasa’s shoulder and smiled when Mikasa briefly put a hand over his. He glanced at Dr. Hanji and dropped his hand from his childhood friend’s shoulder. When the doctor wasn’t talking a mile a minute, Armin noticed her face sank with age. It wasn’t that the doctor had wrinkles, save for the faint laugh lines, but a shadow fell over her uplifted expression. He almost forced up a fake smile, but knew a woman like her would see through his facade. Her tired eyes silently sent him an apologetic message. Armin waited for the sickening sensation whenever he got pity looks, but this was different. It was an apology with the promise of progression.

 

Dr. Hanji cleared her throat wiped away her weariness with a beaming grin. “Don’t be a stranger, Armin!” She chirped.

 

“I won’t.” Armin replied quietly and exited the car.

 

He put his hands in his pockets and stared at the pavement as he walked towards the entrance of the dorms. The air gnashed at his nose and his ears tingled after hearing Dr.Hanji drive away. His grandfather’s scent wafted past his nostrils, but he didn’t flinch. There was too much that needed planning now. Eren was in bad shape if Mikasa was giving up the nomadic lifestyle. They weren’t on the move anymore, which meant the government could catch them. But they were living with Levi and despite Mikasa’s doubt, Armin knew there weren’t that many Levis with the type of injury she described. If Armin’s research was correct, Levi wouldn’t hand his friends over--he probably didn’t even know who they were. Not many from the First War did. Armin needed time--

 

The scuff sound of his right shoe made him jump and he looked up to see three people hanging around the entrance. The shoe he scuffed belonged to a young, blonde woman, which he had seen skulking about campus before. Her pale blue eyes bore into him, no trace of irritation evident on her solemn face. Rather, she was observing him, like a student would to a slide in biology. Distant and cold. Armin inhaled.

 

The other two loiterers were young men, but the largest of the trio threw back his hood and grinned. “Armin! Didn’t know you stayed here at the dorms during the holidays.”

 

“R-Reiner?” Armin allowed the larger man take his hand and shake it. “What brings you here?”

 

Reiner stopped shaking Armin’s hand and blinked slowly. “Uh, because Bertie and I are also residents here?”

 

Armin knew his face was beet red and he lowered his head in shame. “I’m so sorry! With everything that’s been going on in the semester, I must’ve forgotten!”

 

“Nah, it’s all good, we’re always going out!” Reiner laughed, causing some birds nearby to flee. “Speaking of, we were just heading out with Annie to get some food, you wanna come with?”

 

“No thanks, I just got back from the mall.” Armin declined politely and headed towards the door.

 

He sighed in relief once he got inside the building, but something nagged at him. So he looked over his shoulder and was met with three pairs of eyes observing him. He forced a smile and waved, which Reiner reflected perfectly, but the young woman named Annie remained stoic. Reiner’s friend, Bertie, looked flushed as if he ran a marathon; he was the only one in the trio only wearing a hoodie, instead of a jacket on top of a hooded shirt. After the pleasantries, Armin sped walked to his dorm room, his slight paranoia expecting those three loiterers to be behind him.

 

Once inside his room, Armin locked the door and began his breathing exercises. Several minutes later, he was on his laptop, listening to music while looking over possible studying material. He convinced himself that Reiner and company were just a group of eccentrics. Reiner had always been friendly, though Armin didn’t see him much after the Gen. Ed. courses. Armin’s mind drifted towards Annie and her observant stare.

 

She was so confident where she stood, but she didn’t put up a front. A small smirk developed on his face as he dwelled on her facial features, but his cell began blaring an obnoxious ringtone designed to pull him out of his occasional stupor. Immediately thinking of Mikasa and Eren, Armin snatched the phone and looked at his unlocked screen. All the warmth left his face when he saw the text.

 

hey arming, its me, Jean. we need 2 talk

 

\--------------------------------------------------------

 

The doorway had finally opened, though the means were a bit unorthodox. Erwin didn’t expect the children to succeed in making Levi poke his head out of his shell. Levi was masterful at avoiding social interactions, which was overlooked during the war, but it became evident when the media attempted to connect with him. Everyone began dodging Levi due to his legendary status in the military and his unfortunate legends afterwards. It didn’t bother Erwin, because he knew his old subordinate: Levi the man.  But it bothered Levi. When the selected few witnessed the day he woke up broken saw a pillar of strength crumble. And that was when the door became locked shut.

 

Then Zoe Hanji began breaking those locks.

 

Erwin observed Levi after Zoe and Mikasa returned from their mall excursion. He rubbed his mouth, hiding his smile as he watched Levi interacting with Zoe. The door was wide open now.

 

“I think I’ve overstayed my welcome.” Erwin spoke up, causing everyone in the room to look at him. He always savored the brief moment of time when people snap into attention. Their dull expressions lighting up from recognition. That moment, Erwin witnessed humanity in purest form.

 

Zoe fidgeted and Erwin didn’t hide his smile this time. “I can give you a ride, if you need it.” She offered, but Erwin knew.

 

“No thank you, Zoe. Mike is going to pick me up in a couple minutes.”

 

As expected, Zoe’s expression relaxed and she stopped fidgeting. Erwin glanced at Levi and saw the relief on his face. Temptation pulsated on Erwin’s tongue; should he reveal how they looked to him? Images of Levi writhing in his hospital bed flooded into Erwin’s mind and he clenched his jaw. His hands began sweating as he remembered all the late night calls Zoe made; all the times she sobbed into his ear. Erwin stood up and made his way towards the door.

 

“I’ll be in touch, Levi.” Erwin said over his shoulder. He imagined Levi’s scowl, but before he completely exited the house, a voice caught him off guard.

 

“Bye, Erwin!” Eren exclaimed.

 

Erwin looked at Eren and nodded. It was all he could do, and much to his own relief, the air was frigid. He took in a deep breath of the cold air and released a long sigh. Fortunately, Mike’s truck pulled up, allowing Erwin no time to dwell on Eren’s genuine expression of joy. Idly, Erwin stroked his prosthetic hand and felt the sting of winter. If the boy only knew better.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------

 

“Erwin never knew how to make elegant exits.” Zoe commented as the door shut.

 

“As long as he leaves.” Levi added bluntly and looked over at the kids. “What do you say to Ms. Hanji?”

 

Mikasa straightened up and stood before Zoe. “Thank you, I will repay you when I can.” She said solemnly.

 

"Thank you very much, Ms. Hanji!” Eren shouted enthusiastically. “I’ll pay you back too!”

 

Zoe groaned and lightly flicked Levi’s head. “Why’d you have to do that? I told you they were gifts. you don’t pay back a gift.” Zoe put her hands on her hips. “You guys got that? No paybacks!”

 

“Yes ma’am.” Eren replied, while Mikasa nodded.

 

The kids’ stiff demeanor evaporated once they started talking about their phones. Levi watched Zoe’s softened expression; she truly enjoyed giving. Unsure on how to engage Zoe in conversation again, Levi grabbed Zoe’s wrist and lightly tugged. She stared at him in complete confusion.

 

“We need to talk.” Levi said under his breath.

 

A trickle of lava went from the back of Zoe’s throat and down deep into her stomach. She didn’t want to leave the house as soon as Erwin did, but now Levi was starting to move upstairs. Towards his bedroom. So that they could talk. The burning inside her stomach increased and yet her hands were trembling. Levi’s lift was already setting off and Zoe realized that he didn’t bother calling her over or urging her to follow him up. He gave her a choice.

 

Zoe rubbed her eyes and then trudged up the stairs. A tiny voice in the back of her mind whispered that it would be okay, since the kids were in the house. She snorted softly when she remembered it didn’t matter; it never stopped the others. Reality was what she made of it. Levi gave her a choice. She didn’t want to leave in the first place, so there was no time when he forced her to stay. There was no reason for her mind to enter code red.

 

Somehow, Levi was already sitting on his bed and she was about to do the same. How much did time pass? How much time did she waste again inside her mind?

 

“Zoe, it’s about those kids.” Levi started off, his eyes were focusing on his nub.

 

“I’ve been meaning to ask. Why did you take them in? Complete strangers, when all this time, old friends have been trying to visit?” Zoe raised her eyebrows as she waited for an answer. If he wanted a talk, then she was going to glean some information out of it.

 

Levi made eye contact with Zoe. “I don’t know.” He adjusted his sitting position so that he was facing Zoe. “I heard him screaming and it brought me back. I can’t--it reminded me of--if you heard the screaming, you would understand why I did it.”

 

Zoe watched, fascinated at Levi struggling in vain. He really was unsure and if Zoe was picking it up correctly, he was showing signs of fear. She smirked as he moved his hands around with his words.

 

“Brought you back?” Zoe tilted her head to the side. “Where?”

 

“There.” Levi’s voice deepened and he rubbed his scarred leg.

 

“That’s why you’re housing them.” Zoe put a hand over Levi’s, which was still on his leg. “Compensation?”

 

“Maybe, it feels more complicated than that. I’m having Erwin look them up; see if there’s anything peculiar about them.” Levi stared intently at Zoe. “Can he be trusted, Zoe?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“That was fast.”

 

“When you trust someone, it comes out easily.”

 

“So that’s why you hesitate with me.” Levi murmured and smirked when Zoe removed her hand.

 

“You can trust Erwin, Levi, in fact you should trust him a lot more than ever before.” Zoe reinforced her trust in Erwin, though she came off angrier. He caught her off guard.

 

“I know it’s not mutual, but I do trust you, Zoe.” Levi adjusted himself so that his legs were hanging over the edge of the bed. “These brats, regardless of what comes up about them, I won’t abandon them. Something in their eyes. Makes me feel like--”

 

“--kindred spirits.” Zoe finished and stood up. “Well I’ll be able to sleep better knowing they’re here with you instead of on the streets.” She smiled as she moved in front of Levi. “I like seeing him again.”

 

Levi sat up straight. “Who, Erwin?” His face contorted into a disgusted expression. “Please spare me your fantasies about him. I made the mistake looking through a tag once. Once.”

 

“No,” Zoe shook her head and chuckled, “compassionate Levi.” Before Levi could deepen his scowl, Zoe bent down and kissed him on the forehead. “I trust him.” She murmured against his skin.

 

That was enough.

 

Without hesitation, Levi reached out for Zoe’s wrists so that he could pull her down. There was a heat rising inside of him that seemed to have transferred from Zoe’s intimate touch. But when he tightened his grip, he felt her whole body go rigid. Like a corpse. All of his desires were shoved back. She had straightened herself and he did move her so that her legs were against his.

 

As quickly as he grabbed her, he released her, and when she relaxed he stiffened. It was too close. “I shouldn’t have done that.” Levi whispered.

 

“I don’t know why, I’m sorry.” Zoe stammered, her face flushed. “It’s just a tick, a reaction.”

 

“When you don’t trust someone.” Levi added and then looked up at Zoe. “I don’t blame you.”

 

Zoe stared into his blue eyes, the lava inside hardening with his forlorn expression. She shook her head, a lump forming in her throat. “Don’t. Don’t blame yourself.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “I’ll talk to you sometime.” She walked out of Levi’s room without turning back.

 

Everything was cold again.

 

\----To Be Continued----


End file.
